


The Beginning

by Woods2006gal



Series: Addison Sloan series [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-01
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-13 08:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 101,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/501364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woods2006gal/pseuds/Woods2006gal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A woman by the name of Addison Sloan goes hunting with Dean and Sam Winchester, having known them for a very long time. Her history is riddled with mysteries, including her past with the Winchesters. Cross posted on fanfiction.net under Love's Journey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pilot

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.  
> AN: Yes, this starts all the way at the beginning and yes, I will be doing as many episodes as I can.

“Dean, I think it would just be much easier if you just knocked on the door.” Addison Sloan whispers to the man standing in front of her as he picks the lock on the window. He opens it and climbs in, sending her an annoyed look and she rolls her eyes. “I’m gonna wait by the door.” Dean Winchester doesn’t reply as he enters the apartment. When Addison hears a crash from inside the apartment, she looks in the window and sees Dean brushing a broken lamp behind a bookshelf. She shakes her head in disbelief and makes her way over to the front door. She tenses when she hears fighting and stands alert. After a couple of minutes the front door opens and she let's out a relived breath when Dean walks out. Addison smiles at the tall man who walks out of the apartment with Dean. It had been a good fives years since she had last seen the shaggy hair young man. “Sam.” Addison greets with a smile. “It’s been a while, huh.”

Sam Winchester nods, his gaze going between her and Dean. "Yeah, it has."

Addison smiles. “How have you been?”

“There is an important reason behind this visit.” Dean snaps, pushing past them walk down the stairs. Addison glares at Dean’s back, but follows him anyway.

Sam shakes his head as he goes after his older brother. “Dean, come on. You can’t just break in, in the middle of the night and expect me to hit the road with you.”

“You’re not hearing me, Sammy. Dad’s missing. And we need you to help us find him.” Dean argues.

Sam lets out a frustrated sigh. “You remember the poltergeist in Amherst or the Devil’s Gates in Clifton? He was missing then too. He’s always missing and he’s always fine.”

“Not for this long. Now you gonna come with us or not?” Dean asks, suddenly stopping and turning to his younger brother. Addison bumps into him and rolls her eyes.

“I’m not.” Sam answers. “I swore I was done hunting for good.”

“Come on, it wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t that bad.” Dean argues.

Sam scoffs. “Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet he gave me a .45.”

“Well, what was he supposed to do?”

“I was nine years old. He was supposed to say ‘Don’t be afraid of the dark.’”

“‘Don’t be afraid of the dark?’” Dean incredulously repeats. “Are you kidding me? Of course you should be afraid of the dark! You know what’s out there!”

“Yeah, I know, but still — the way we grew up after Mom was killed and Dad’s obsession to find the thing that killed her, but we still haven’t found the damn thing, so we kill everything we can find.”

“You’ve saved a lot of people, Sam.” Addison comments.

“You think Mom would have wanted this for us?” Sam asks his older brother as they walk out of the building. “The weapon training and melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors.”

“So, what are you gonna do? You just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?” Dean angrily questions.

Sam sighs. “No. Not normal. Safe.”

“And that’s why you ran away?”

“I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go, I should stay gone. And that’s what I’m doing.”

“Yeah, well…Dad’s in real trouble if he’s not dead already, I can feel it. We can’t do this alone.”

“Yes, you can.”

"Yeah, well, we don't want to." Addison says as they reach the Impala.

Sam stares at her for a moment, then nods before letting out a sigh. “What was he hunting?”

Dean opens the trunk, revealing the false bottom and rummages through the numerous weapons. “All right, let’s see. Where the hell did I put that thing?”

“This is what you get for not being more organized, Dean.” Addison comments. Dean glares at her and she shrugs, fighting off a smirk. “I’m just saying.”

“So when Dad left, why didn’t you two go with him?” Sam asks.

“We were working our own gig. This ghost thing up in Maine.” Dean replies.

“Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourselves.” Sam says.

“Dude, we’re twenty-six.” Dean argues, pulling out a stack of papers. “All right, here we go. So Dad was checking this two-lane blacktop outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy disappears.” He shows them the newspaper clipping about the disappearance of a young man. “They found his car but he’d vanished, completely M.I.A.”

“So maybe he was kidnapped.” Sam theorizes.

“Yeah, well. Here’s another one in April.” Dean drops another newspaper article on the weapons. “Another in December ’04, ’03, ’98, ’92. Ten of them over the past twenty years, all men, all same five mile stretch of road. Started happening more and more so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. We haven’t heard from him since, which is bad enough. Then I get this voicemail yesterday.”

Dean pulls out a tape recorder and presses play. “Dean, something is starting to happen, I think it’s serious. I need to try to figure out what’s going on. Be very careful, we’re all in danger.” John Winchester says.

“You know there’s EVP on that.” Sam points out.

Dean smirks. “Not bad, Sammy. Kind of like riding a bike, isn’t it? All right. Ads slowed the message down and ran it through Gold Wave, took out the hiss and this is what we got.”

Dean presses play once again and this time a woman says, “I can never go home.”

“Never go home.” Sam repeats.

Dean throws the tape recorder in the trunk and Addison moves as he slams it shut. “You know in almost four years I’ve never bothered you. Never asked you for a thing.”

Sam sighs. He knew how much this meant to his older brother and how hard it must’ve been for Dean to show up, asking for help. “All right, I’ll go. I’ll help you find him. But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here.”

“What’s on Monday?” Addison questions.

Sam shifts. “I have this — I have an interview.”

“What? A job interview? Skip it.” Dean replies and Addison sends him a disbelieving look.

“It’s a law school interview and it’s my whole future on a plate.”

“Law school?”

“So we got a deal or not?”

“Go pack. We’ll wait for you.” Addison tells him and Sam walks back to his apartment building. She turns to Dean when Sam is no longer in hearing distance. “You’re awful sometimes, you know that.”

Dean smirks. “And yet, you’re still here.”

“There must be something wrong with me then.” Dean grabs Addison’s arm and pulls her to his chest. His hand travels down her back and Addison shakes her head as she pulls away. "We're not going down that road again."

"It's been four months, Ads." Dean rolls his eyes when she climbs into the Impala. 

* * *

Addison’s brushing her copper red hair and watching Sam sort through a box containing cassette tapes. “So how long have you and Dean been hunting together?” Sam questions, not looking up from the box.

“Almost four years.” Addison answers. “I ran into him and your dad during a job. Kinda just stayed with them after.”

Sam nods. “And how long have you guys been dating?”

Addison bursts out laughing. Sam looks up from the box and she stops laughing. “Oh, you were serious. Um, no. Just friends. Well, friends with benefits anyway.” The younger Winchester stares at her. “What? Sometimes you gotta scratch the itch.”

Sam shakes his head as Dean climbs back into the Impala. He tosses a bottle of Gatorade and a bag chips into the backseat. Addison shoots him an annoyed look as she picks up the bottle. “Hey, you want breakfast?” Dean asks his younger brother, while waving a Snickers in his face.

“No thanks.” Sam replies. “So, how’d you pay for that stuff? You and Dad still running credit card scams?”

“Hunting ain’t exactly a pro-ball career. Besides, all we do is apply, it’s not our fault they send us the cards."

“Yeah, and what names did you write on the application this time?”

“Uh, Bert Aframian, his son, Hector and Hector’s lovely wife, Maria. Scored three cards out of the deal.”

“Sounds about right. I swear, man, you gotta update your cassette tape collection.”

Dean frowns. “Why?”

Sam holds up one of Dean’s beloved tapes. “Well for one they’re cassette tapes, and two — Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica? It’s the greatest hits of mullet rock.”

Dean grabs a tape out of the box and pops it into the tape player. “House rules, Sammy. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole.”

An annoyed look crosses Sam’s face. “You know Sammy is a chubby twelve year old. Its Sam, okay?”

Dean smirks and turns up the music. “I’m sorry, I can’t hear you. The music’s too loud."

Addison rolls her eyes and leans forward. “You know, Dean, that house rule shouldn’t count since you don’t let anyone else drive the Impala.”

* * *

“All right, so there’s no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue, so that’s something, I guess.” Sam says, hanging up his phone. Addison frowns, noticing the police cars surrounding a bridge.

“Check it out.” Dean says, pulling the Impala over. He leans over and opens the glove compartment before taking out a small box. It was filled with fake ids and badges from various organizations from around the country. He takes out three badges and hands one each to Sam and Addison before keeping one for himself. The trio climbs out of the Impala and crosses the street.

“No sign of struggle, no footprints, no fingerprints. Spotless, it’s almost too clean.” an officer overlooking the car says.

“So this kid, Troy, he’s dating your daughter, isn’t he?” another officer questions.

The first officer nods. “Yeah.”

“How’s Amy doing?”

The first officer runs a hand over his face. “She’s putting up missing posters downtown.”

“You fella’s had another one just like this last month, didn’t ya?” Dean asks as they near the officers.

“Who are you?” the second officer asks.

Addison flashes her fake Marshall badge. “We’re federal agents.”

The second officer frowns. “You three are a little young for Marshalls, aren’t you?”

“Thanks, that’s awfully kind of you. You did have another one just like this correct?” Dean questions the officers.

“Yeah, about a mile up the road. There have been others before that.”

“So, this victim, you knew him?” Sam questions. Addison and Dean look inside the car, being careful not to touch anything. Blood covered part of the seat and windshield. They exchange a look before standing up.

The second officer shrugs. “In a town like this, everybody knows everybody.”

“Are there any connections between any of the victims? Besides the fact that they’re all men?” Addison questions and the officer looks at her.

“No, not as far as we can tell.”

“So what’s the theory?” Sam asks, moving to stand by Dean and Addison.

“Honestly? We don’t know. Serial murderer? Kidnapping ring?”

“Well that is exactly the kind of crack police work that I’d expect out of you guys,” Dean comments and Addison shoots him an annoyed look. Sam slams his heel into Dean’s foot and the older Winchester winces.

“Thank you for your time.” Sam says, looking around. “Gentlemen.” The trio starts back towards the Impala and Addison rolls her eyes when she sees Dean smacks Sam on the back of the head. “Owe! What was that for?”

“Why did you have to step on my foot?” Dean argues.

“Why did you have to talk to police like that?”

“Come on. They don’t really know what’s going on. We’re all alone on this. I mean, if we’re gonna find Dad, we’ve gotta get to the bottom of this thing ourselves.”

“Guys.” Addison quietly states. She motions to sheriff and the two men standing beside him, wearing black windbreakers and sunglasses.

“Can I help you?” the sheriff asks. Addison shakes her head head, giving the men a bright smile.

“No, sir, we were just leaving.” Dean replies and the trio passes them. “Agent Mulder, Agent Scully.” Addison shoots Dean an unamused look and he smirks in response.

* * *

“I’ll bet you that’s her.” Dean says, pointing to the teenage girl that was hanging up posters outside the town’s theater. The trio walks up to her. She was no older than Sam and wore black clothing head to toe. “You must be Amy.”

“Yeah.” Amy warily answers and Addison gives her a comforting smile.

“Troy told us about you, we’re his cousins. I’m Dean, this is Sammy and Addison.”

Amy frowns. “He never mentioned you to me.”

“Well that’s Troy, I guess. We’re not around much, we’re up in Modesto. So we’re looking for him too and we’re kind of asking around.”

Another girl around Amy’s age and dressed similarly walks up. She pays no attention to the trio, putting all her attention on Amy. “Hey, are you okay?”

Amy nods. “Yeah.”

“Do you mind if we ask you a couple of questions?” Sam softly asks Amy, who nods. They enter a local diner and crowd around one of the tables.

“What exactly happened?” Addison questions as a waitress sets a few sodas on the table.

“I was one the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back and he never did.” Amy explains.

“Did anything seem strange or out of the ordinary?”

“No, nothing I can remember.”

“I like your necklace.” Sam comments, gesturing to the pentagram hanging around Amy’s neck.

Amy lightly touches her necklace. “Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents with all that devil stuff.”

“Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil, really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing.”

Dean clears his throat and leans forward. “Okay, thank you Unsolved Mysteries. Here’s the deal ladies — the way Troy disappeared — something’s not right. So if you’ve heard anything…” The girls exchange a look. “What is it?”

“Well, it’s just…with all these guys going missing, people talk.” Amy’s friend says.

“What do they talk about?” the trio asks.

“It’s kind of this local legend. This one girl, she got murdered out on Centennial like…decades ago. Well supposedly she’s still out there. She hitchhikes and whoever picks her up — well they disappear forever.”

The trio exchanges a look. They thank Amy and her friend before quickly leaving the diner and heading towards a local library. Dean takes a seat in front of a computer and Addison rolls her eyes as she moves to grab a chair from another desk. She notices Sam standing behind Dean as he starts typing on the computer. “Let me try.” Sam says, trying to grab the mouse out of his older brother’s hand.

Addison pushes Dean’s chair out of the way and rolls her own in front of the computer. “You forgot the most important thing.”

“And what’s that, Addison?” Dean snaps, rolling back over to the desk.

“Angry spirits are born out of violent death, right.” Sam states.

Addison nods. “Correct you are, Skywalker. So our mysterious ghost could have committed suicide.” She replaces the word murder with suicide in the search engine. An article pops up with the picture of a young woman. “Here we go. 1981, Constance Welch, twenty-four years old. She jumps off Sylvania Bridge and drowns in the river.”

“Does it say why she did it?” Dean asks and Addison nods, scrolling down the screen. He purposely bumps her chair. “Well?”

“Apparently an hour before her body was found, she called 911. Her two children were in the bathtub, she walks out of the room and when she comes back neither are breathing. Both were declared dead. ‘Our babies were gone and Constance couldn’t bear it.’ her husband, Joseph Welch, states.”

Dean leans over Addison shoulder and taps the screen. A picture of a bridge with cop cars and an ambulance was on the screen. “That bridge look familiar to you guys?”

* * *

That night the trio arrives at the bridge they had visited earlier that day. The police had cleared the crime scene and had reopened the bridge. Addison looks over the edge and sees the ranging river in the moonlight. “So this is where Constance took the swan dive.” Dean says, looking around.

“So you think Dad would have been here?” Sam asks.

Dean shrugs. “Well he’s chasing the same story and we’re chasing him.”

“Okay, so now what?”

“Now we keep digging till we find him. It might take a while.”

“I told you, I’ve gotta get back by—”

“Monday. Right, the interview.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I forgot. You’re really serious about this, aren’t you? You think you’re gonna become some lawyer? Marry your girl?”

“Maybe. Why not?” Sam replies. Addison sighs. She had been waiting for this argument to come up sooner or later.

“Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you’ve done?”

“No and she’s not ever going to know.”

“Well that’s healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you’re going to have to face up to who you really are.” Dean tells him. He starts back towards the Impala, with Sam following him as Addison stays behind.

“Who is that?” Sam demands.

“One of us.”

Sam shakes his head. “No, I”m not like you. This is not going to be my life.”

“Well you’ve got a responsibility.”

“To Dad and his crusade? If it weren’t for pictures, I wouldn’t even know what Mom looks like. What difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom’s gone and she isn’t coming back.” Sam argues. Dean grabs Sam and shoves him against the bridge.

“Stop!” Addison shouts, running over to the brothers.

“Don’t talk about her like that.” Dean snaps. He releases Sam and takes a step back. Addison notices a woman wearing a white dress standing on the bridge’s railing.

“Guys, we have company.” Addison says, motioning to the woman. The woman falls off the bridge and they run to where she had been standing. They look over the railing but don’t see anything in the river.

“Where’d she go?” Dean asks.

“I don’t know.” Sam answers. The sound of the Impala starting grabs their attention.

“What the fuck?”

“Dean, who’s driving your car?” Addison questions. Dean holds up his car keys in response. The Impala starts towards them and they take off running down the bridge. Sam grabs Addison’s arm and they run towards the side of the bridge. They jump over and Sam releases Addison’s arm in order to grab onto the bridge. He struggles to pull himself back onto the bridge. Looking down, Sam can’t see Dean or Addison and worry fills him.

“Dean!” Sam shouts. “Addison! Dean!"

“What?!” Dean yells, crawling out of the river. He flops down into the muddy bank and takes a deep breath.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m super!”

“And Addison?”

Dean frowns and sits up as Addison crawls out of the river. “She’s fine!” he answers, pushing himself up. He makes his way over to her. Addison coughs up water as she slowly stands up. She wipes the mud off her face. He wraps an arm around her waist and they make their way up to the bridge. Addison leans against the side of the Impala as Dean inspects his beloved car.

“Car all right?” Sam asks as Dean slams the hood shut.

“Yeah, whatever she did to it, it seems all right now. That Constance chick — what a bitch!”

“Well, apparently Constance doesn’t want us looking around.” Addison comments. She looks at Dean. “You smell like shit.”

Dean flicks some mud in her face. “So do you, princess.”

Addison rolls her eyes. “Bite me.” 

“I’d love—”

“So, where’s the trail go from here?” Sam asks, amused by their behavior.

* * *

“One room please.” Dean says, dropping a credit card on the counter. The trio had made their to the nearest motel after Addison declared that they needed to get cleaned up before doing anything else.

The clerk picks up the credit card and stares at the trio. “You guys having a reunion or something?”

“What do you mean?” Sam asks.

“That other guy, Bert Aframian. He came in and bought out a room for the whole month.”

The trio exchanges a look. Addison leans against the counter and shoots the clerk a smile. “Could you tell us what room he’s staying in? Bert forgot to tell us.”

“Twenty-three.” the clerk answers, his gaze going to Addison’s cleavage. He smirks and she smiles at him before walking out of the lobby. Once outside, the trio make their way to room twenty-three. Dean and Addison stand in front of Sam as he picks the lock. Sam opens the door and Addison follows him into the room. Realizing that Dean was still outside, Sam grabs the back of his brother’s muddy jacket and jerks him.

“Whoa.” Sam says, looking around the messy room. Newspaper articles and photos were tacked to the walls. Salt was in a half circle by the door while a couple of protective amulets were hanging around the room.

“I think gross is the more accurate word.” Addison comments, eyeing the burger sitting on the nightstand.

Dean turns on a lamp and picks up the old burger. He takes a whiff, then quickly tosses into the trashcan. “I don’t think he’s been here for a couple of days, at least.”

“Salt, cats eye shells. He was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in.” Sam says. Addison watches as he moves to stand by Dean and looks at the articles. “What do you got here?”

“Centennial Highway victims. I don’t get it. I mean different men, different jobs, ages, and ethnicities. There’s always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?”

Addison turns on another lamp and sees a small piece of paper the words: ‘Woman in White.’ She scoffs. “They’re all cheating bastards.”

“What?” Dean asks, joining her and Addison motions to the paper.

“He found the same article we did. Constance Welch, she’s a woman in white.” Sam explains, joining them.

“You sly dogs.” Dean comments. Addison smacks him on the chest. “All right, so if we’re dealing with a woman in white, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it.”

“She might have another weakness.”

“No, Dad would want to make sure, he’d dig her up. Does it says where she’s buried?”

“No, not that I can tell. If I were Dad though, I’d got ask her husband. If he’s still alive.”

“All right, why don’t you see if you can find an address. We’re gonna get cleaned up.”

“Hey, Dean, what I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I’m sorry.” Sam tells his older brother.

Dean waves a hand. “No chick flick moments. I get enough of those from her.” Dean replies and Addison rolls her eyes as she walks into the bathroom.

“All right, jerk.”

“Bitch.” Dean says, with a quick smile. He walks into the bathroom and sees Addison pulling off her bra. She turns and immediately grabs her shirt to cover up with. “Please, don’t stop on my account.”

“Out.” Addison orders.

“We should help the planet and conserve water by showering together.” Dean says, grinning. Addison walks over to him and he pulls her against his chest. He runs a hand up and down her bare back. She grasps his shoulders and spins him around before opening the door and shoving him out. The slamming of the door causes Sam to look up from the research. “I guess Ads doesn’t care about saving the planet.”

Sam scoffs. “And you do?” 

Dean smirks. “Of course I do.”

* * *

“Hey, I”m starving. I’m gonna grab a little something to eat at the diner down the street. You want anything?” Dean asks, walking out of the bathroom. Addison was sitting on the bed, brushing her hair.

“No.” Sam replies.

“You sure?” Addison asks, standing up. “Dean’s fake credit card is buying.” Sam doesn’t reply and Addison shrugs, following Dean out of the motel room. She looks to her left and sees two cops talking to the motel clerk. “Shit.”

“Dude, five-o take off.” Dean says and Addison notices that he’s on his cell phone. “Uh, they kind of spotted us. Go find Dad.” He hangs up and they turn around to see that cops had caught up to them. “Problem officers?”

“Where’s your partner?” the officer asks. 

“What partner?” Addison replies, giving him a bright smile and she watches the other cop walk back to their motel room.

The officer stares, unamused. “So. Fake US Marshals, fake credit cards. You got anything that’s real?”

“Her boobs.” Dean quips. Addison glares at Dean as the officers handcuff them and shove them into the back of a squad car.

* * *

“Name?” the officer asks and Addison lets out a frustrated sigh. She was sitting in an interrogation room in the police station. She had been handcuffed to the chair by the slightly overweight man. His face was bright red, probably getting aggravated by her and Dean.

“Victoria Adams.” Addison answers.

The officer bangs a fist on the table and Addison stares at him. “I don’t think you understand the amount of trouble you and your buddy are in. We searched that room and you had the faces of ten missing people on the walls. And there was all that satanic crap on the walls too.”

“Yeah, considering that I was three and living on the other side of the country when that happened.”

“You and the other one had an older partner. And you’re going to tell me where he is, but in the mean time, I’m gonna talk to your buddy and see what he has to say.” the officer tells her before walking out of the room.

Addison groans and lightly bangs her head on the cold metal table. She looks up when she hears a commotion coming from the station’s main room and sees all the officers running out of the station. A hand touches her shoulder and Addison jumps. Dean smirks and holds up a paper clip. Addison holds up her right wrist and a contemplative look crosses Dean’s face. “Dean.” Addison snaps. He rolls his eyes and picks the lock on the handcuff.

Addison rubs her wrist as they make their way out of the police station. “Dad left his journal behind.” Dean says as they duck into an alley. He pulls the brown leather journal out of his jacket.

Addison sighs. “Which means that he’s long gone. You got your phone?”

“Nope.” He spots a phone booth at the end of the alley. He takes off and Addison runs after him. She squeezes into the phone booth with him and glares when he elbows her while searching for change. “Hey, what’s…” He trails off as she punches in Sam’s cell phone number. “Fake 911 call, Sammy? I don’t know, that’s pretty illegal. Listen, we gotta talk. Sammy, would you shut up for a second. Well, that’s what I’m trying tell you. He’s gone. Dad left Jericho. We’ve got his journal. Yeah, well he did this time. Same old ex-Marine crap when he wants to let us know where he’s going. We’re not sure yet. Sam? Sam!” Dean slams the phone back on the receiver.

* * *

Addison stands back, catching her breath as Dean shoots the ghost inside the Impala. Her and Dean had made their way to the abandoned house after learning that was where Sam was headed to. The Impala starts and she watches as it crashes into the house. Addison runs after Dean and the Impala into the house, being careful of the debris. “Sam!” Dean yells. “Sam! You okay?”

“I think so.” Sam replies as Addison makes her way to the passenger side.

“Can you move?” Addison questions.

“Yeah. Help me.”

Addison moves out of the way as Dean helps Sam out of the Impala and turns to see the woman from the bridge holding a picture. Constance turns and the dresser in front of them pins the trio against the Impala. Addison lets out a groan of pain as the lights start to flicker and looks up the rickety stairs, seeing two children at the top.

“You’ve come home to us, Mommy.” the children say. Constance turns a the children appear behind her. The children grab Constance and she screams before melting into a puddle. Sam and Dean push the dresser onto the ground and Addison takes a deep breath.

“So this is where she drowned her kids.” Dean comments, looking around the old house.

“That’s why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them.” Sam explains.

“You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy.”

“I wish I could say the same for you. What were thinking, shooting Casper in the face, you freak?”

“Hey, saved your ass. I’ll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car, I’ll kill you.” Dean warns as they start pulling wood off the Impala. Addison delivers a punch to his arm and he glares. “What the fuck was that for?”

“For getting me arrested.” Addison snaps. Sam shakes his head in amusement as his older brother and old friend delve into one of their signature arguments.

* * *

“Okay, here’s where Dad went. It’s called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado.” Sam says. Addison leans over the seat to look on the map. They had quickly hit the road after packing what was left of John’s motel room. Sam had spent the entire ride so far looking up the coordinates that John had left them.

“Lovely. And how far to the Emerald City?” Addison asks.

“About six hundred miles.”

“If we shag ass we can make it by morning.” Dean states.

Sam shifts. “Dean, um…”

Dean tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “You’re not going.”

“The interview’s in ten hours, I gotta be there.”

Dean nods. “Yeah. Yeah, whatever. We’ll take you home.”

The drive back to Sam’s apartment is silent for the rest of the ride. Addison jumps when the Impala comes to a stop and she sees they’re in front of Sam’s building. She discreetly wipes the drool off the seat as she climbs out of the backseat. “Keep in touch.” Addison orders as she embraces Sam. “Good luck on your interview.”

Sam shoots her a thankful smile. He turns to his older brother. “You’ll call me if you find him?” Dean nods. “Maybe I can meet up with you guys later, huh?”

Dean nods once more. Sam turns and starts towards his apartment. “Sam!” Dean calls and Sam turns back. “You know we made a hell of a team back there.”

“Yeah.” Sam replies, with a smile.

Addison climbs into the Impala and they wait until Sam’s inside the building before driving off. She places a comforting hand on Dean’s arm. “You’re going to find him, Dean.”

Static comes over the radio. Watching his brother walk off, Dean had felt something wasn’t right. “Something’s not right. We have to go back.” He does a sharp u-turn and speeds back towards the building. The Impala slams to a stop outside the building and Addison hangs back as Dean races into the building. A fireball bursts out of the window on the top floor and she can do nothing but watch in horror.

Later, while the fireman are finishing up, the trio is standing next to the Impala. The boys were going through the weapons in the trunk. Sam tosses a sawed off shotgun into the weapons cache and slams the trunk closed. “We got work to do.”


	2. Wendigo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

Addison looks up from her laptop when Sam jumps awake in the front seat where he had been sleeping and she shares a concerned look with Dean. The younger Winchester had trouble sleeping ever since the death of his girlfriend, Jessica. “You okay, Sam?” she asks, closing her laptop and putting it in her bag.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Sam replies, gazing out the window.

“Another nightmare?” Dean questions and Sam doesn’t reply. “You wanna drive for a while?”

Sam turns to Dean. “In your whole life you never once asked me that.”

Dean shrugs. “Just thought you might want to. Never mind.”

“Look, you’re both worried about me, I get it, and thank you, but I’m perfectly okay.” Sam replies and Addison raises an eyebrow. “All right…where are we?”

“The last sign I saw said Grand Junction.” Addison answers, handing Sam the map that was on the seat next to her.

“You know what? Maybe we shouldn’t have left Stanford so soon.”

“Sam, we dug around there for a week, we came up with nothing. If you wanna find the thing that killed Jessica…” Dean trails off.

Sam sighs. “We gotta find Dad first.”

“Dad disappearing, and this thing showing up again after twenty years, it’s no coincidence. Dad will have answers; he’ll know what to do.”

“It’s weird man. These coordinates he left us, this Blackwater Ridge.”

“What about it?”

“You mean besides the fact it’s in the middle of nowhere.” Addison comments and Sam nods. “Guess we’ll find out when we get there.”

About an hour later they pull into the Visitors Center for Lost Creek, Colorado and walk into the medium sized log building. A model of the forest was in the center while old mining photos were on the wall. Displays of Native American artifacts were also on display. “So Blackwater Ridge is pretty remote. It’s cut off by these canyons here, rough terrain, dense forest, abandoned silver and gold mines all over the place.” Sam explains as Addison takes a closer look at the model.

“Dude, check out the size of this fucking bear.” Dean says and Addison shakes her head in amusement.

“There’s a large grizzly bear population, along with mountain lions, bobcats, porcupines, and other numerous wild animals, Dean. And it’s not a walk in the park to get there either.” Addison tells him as a Ranger walks over to the three of them.

“You three aren’t planning going out near Blackwater Ridge by any chance?” the Ranger asks and Addison sees the name tag on his uniform says Wilkinson.

“Oh no, sir, we’re environmental study majors from UC Boulder, just working on a paper.” Sam replies.

“Recycle, man.” Dean says.

“Bull. You’re friends with that Hailey girl right?” Ranger Wilkinson asks them.

“Yes, yes we are, Ranger…Wilkinson.”

“Well, I will tell you exactly what we told her. Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying he wouldn’t be back from Blackwater till the 24th, so it’s not exactly a missing persons, now is it? You tell that girl to quit worrying, I’m sure her brother’s just fine.”

“We will. Well, that Hailey girls quite a pistol, huh?”

Ranger Wilkinson scoffs. “That is putting it mildly.”

“Actually you know what would help is if I could show her a copy of that backcountry permit you know, so she could see her brother’s return date.” The Ranger nods and quickly returns with a copy of the permit, handing it to Dean before they walk out of the building.

“Recycle man?” Addison asks Dean. “It’s a good thing you know how to think on your feet.”

“And what would you have said, Addison?” Dean responds.

“That we’re doing a study on how the climate change of the world affects our local state parks and the animals living in it.”

“The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge, so what are we waiting for, let’s just go find Dad. I mean, why even talk to this girl?” Sam questions as they reach the Impala.

“I dunno maybe we should know what we’re walking into before we actually walk into it.” Dean replies and Addison nods in agreement.

“What?”

“Well, since when are you all shoot first, ask questions later anyway?”

“Since now.”

“Oh, really?” Dean responds and they climb into the Impala before pulling away from the Visitors Center.

* * *

They pull up in front of a house in a quiet neighborhood and walk up the sidewalk to a quaint looking house. Dean knocks on the door and a young woman about the same age as Addison and Dean opens the door. “You must be Hailey Collins. I’m Dean, this is Sam and Addison. We’re rangers with the park service. Ranger Wilkinson sent us over. We wanted to ask you some questions about your brother, Tommy.” Dean explains.

“Let me see some ID.” Hailey responds and Dean holds up the fake park service id. “Come on in.” Hailey opens the door and the three of them enter her house.

“So, if Tommy’s not due back for a while, how do you know something’s wrong?” Sam questions.

“He checks in every day by cell. He e-mails photos, stupid little videos…but we haven’t heard anything in over three days now.”

“Well, maybe he can’t get cell reception.”

“He’s got a satellite phone too.”

“Maybe he just forgot to check in.” Addison suggests and a younger guy walks into the room.

“He wouldn’t do that.” the guy counters.

“Our parents are gone. It’s just my two brothers and me. We all keep pretty close tabs on each other.” Hailey tells them.

“Can I see the pictures he sent you?” Sam asks.

“Yeah.” Hailey opens a file on a laptop and Addison sees the man in the picture. “That’s Tommy.” Hailey clicks and a video starts to play.

“Hey, Hailey, day six, we’re still out near Blackwater Ridge, we’re fine. Keeping safe. So don’t worry, talk to you tomorrow.” Tommy says and Addison frowns.

“Well, we’ll find your brother. We’re heading out to Blackwater Ridge first thing.” Dean tells her.

“Then maybe I’ll see you there.” Hailey counters and Addison sends her a questioning look. “Look. I can’t sit around here anymore, so I hired a guide. I’m heading out in the morning and I’m gonna find Tommy myself.”

“I think I know how ya feel.”

“Hey, you mind forwarding these to me?” Sam asks and Hailey nods.

* * *

Dean, Sam, and Addison were sitting in a local bar. Sam pulls out various newspaper articles from his brother leather laptop bag and spreads them on the table. “So, Blackwater Ridge doesn’t get a lot of traffic, local campers mostly. But still, this past April two hikers went missing out there and they were never found.”

“Any before that?” Dean asks.

“Yeah in 1982, eight different people all vanished in the same year. Authorities said it was a grizzly attack. And again in 1959 and again before that in 1936. Every twenty three years, just like clockwork.” Sam explains and pulls out his laptop. “Okay watch this. Here’s the clincher. I downloaded that guy, Tommy’s, video to the laptop. Check this out.” Sam presses play and a very fast shadow moves across the screen.

“Do it again.” Sam plays it again and Dean doesn’t miss the shadow that darts across the screen.

“That’s three frames. That’s a fraction of a second. Whatever that thing is, it can move.”

“Told ya something weird was going on." 

“Its possible that the attacks go back into the mid 19th century and that they just hadn’t recorded them. I also found that in 1959, a kid named Charles Shaw, barely survived a so called grizzly attack.” Addison explains, showing them notebook with the information written down in it.

* * *

“Look, Ranger, I don’t know why you’re asking me about this. It’s public record. I was a kid. My parents got mauled by a—” Shaw starts. He was in his early sixties and it was oblivious that the years since his parents’ deaths hadn’t been kind to him.

“Grizzly? That’s what attacked them?” Sam interrupts. Shaw nods and Addison sends Sam a look.

“The other people that went missing that year…those bear attacks too? What about all the people that went missing this year? Same thing? If we knew what we were dealing with, we might be able to stop it.” Dean tells him.

Shaw shakes his head. “I seriously doubt that. Anyways, I don’t see what difference it would make. You wouldn’t believe me, nobody ever did.”

“What exactly did you see that night, Mr. Shaw?” Addison softly asks.

“Nothing. It moved too fast to see, it hid too well. I heard it though, a roar, like…no man or animal I ever heard.”

“It came at night?” Sam asks and Shaw nods. “Got inside your tent?”

“It got inside our cabin.” Shaw corrects. “I was sleeping in front of the fireplace when it came in. It didn’t smash a window or break the door, it unlocked it. Do you know of a bear that could do something like that? I didn’t even wake up till I heard my parents screaming.”

“It killed them?”

“Dragged them off into the night. Why it left me alive? Been asking myself that ever since. Did leave me this though.” Shaw pulls his shirt collar down and shows them the three long claw marks starting at his shoulder. “There’s something evil in those woods. It was some soft of a demon.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Shaw.” Addison says and the three of them walk out of the apartment.

“Spirits and demons don’t have to unlock doors. If they want inside they just go through the walls.” Dean states.

“So it’s probably something else, something corporeal.” Sam replies.

“Corporeal? Excuse me, professor.”

“Whatever it is, we have to figure it out. The most obvious suspects are that it’s either a skin walker or a black dog.” Addison tells them as they walk out of the building and towards the Impala.

“Whatever we’re talking about, we’re talking about a creature and it’s corporeal. Which means we can kill it.” Dean says as he opens the trunk, then the hidden compartment and starts putting different weapons into a duffel bag.

“We cannot let that Hailey girl go out there.” Sam says.

“Oh yeah? What are we gonna tell her? That she can’t go into the woods because of a big scary monster?”

“Yeah.”

Dean shakes his head. “Her brother’s missing, Sam. She’s not just gonna sit this out. Now we go with her, we protect her, and we keep our eyes peeled for our fuzzy predator friend." 

“Finding Dad’s not enough.” Sam snaps. “Now we gotta baby sit too?” Addison sends Sam a look before shaking her head and climbing into the back seat of the Impala.

* * *

Addison puts on her sunglass as she follows Sam and Dean towards where Hailey was standing with her younger brother and an unknown man. She made sure to put on plenty of sunscreen to help protect her pale skin. “You guys got room for three more?” Dean asks them.

“Wait, you want to come with us?” Hailey replies.

“Who are these guys,?” the man asks.

“Apparently this is all the park service could muster up fro search and rescue.”

“You’re rangers?”

“Something wrong?” Addison replies, sarcastically smiling at the man.

“You’re wearing designer sunglasses.” Hailey comments before turning to Dean. “And you’re hiking out in biker boots and jeans?”

“Well, sweetheart, I don’t do shorts.” Dean replies.

“What? You think this is funny? Its dangerous backcountry out there, her brother might be hurt.” the man tells them.

“Believe me, I know how dangerous this could get. We just wanna help her find her brother, that’s all.” The man doesn’t respond and Addison shares an amused look with Sam before the group starts hiking through the woods. They’ve been walking for about hour an hour, when Dean breaks the silence. “Roy, you said you did a little hunting.”

“Yeah, more than a little.” Roy replies.

“Uh huh. What kind of furry critters do you hunt?”

“Mostly buck, sometimes bear.”

“Tell me, uh, Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?” Dean asks him and Roy grabs him, causing the group to stop walking. “What cha doing, Roy?”

Roy grabs a stick and slams it to the ground in front of Dean. Metal jaws snap shut, breaking the stick in half. “You should watch where you’re stepping…Ranger.”

“It’s a bear trap.” Dean states and Addison pats him on the back as the group continues on. Sometime later, the group stops and Addison looks around the small clearing, frowning when she doesn’t hear anything.

“This is it. Blackwater Ridge.” Roy announces.

“What coordinates do we have?” Sam asks and Addison moves her sunglass onto the top of her head.

“35-111.”

“You hear that?” Dean asks, moving to stand by Addison and Sam.

“You mean the eerie silence.” Addison questions and Dean nods. “Yeah, I totally noticed that.”

“I’m gonna take a look around.” Roy states.

“You shouldn’t go off by yourself.” Sam tells him.

“That’s sweet. Don’t worry about me.” Roy responds, before walking off. Addison rolls her eyes.

“All right, everybody stays together. Let’s go.” Dean tells the group.

“Hailey, over here.” Roy shouts and the group runs over to another clearing. Addison lets out a gasp at the sight of the bloody torn up tent and notices the bloody claw marks on the trees. “Looks like a grizzly.”

“Tommy!” Hailey shouts and Addison notices that Hailey drops her bag on the ground. “Tommy!”

“Be quiet.” Addison sternly tells Hailey.

“Why?”

“Because something could still be out there and I don’t want it to pay us a visit.”

“Sam, Ads!” Dean shouts and Addison heads over to where he’s standing. The forest floor had been disturbed, then it suddenly returns to normal. “The bodies were from the campsite. But here the tracks just vanish.”

“That’s weird.” Addison says.

“I’ll tell you what, that’s no skin walker or black dog.” Addison bends down and takes a closer look at the vanishing tracks. She turns and walks back to where the rest of the group is standing.

“Help! Help!” a voice from the woods yells and the group rushes off in the direction that it came from.

“It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn’t it?” Hailey says.

“Everybody back to camp.” Sam orders and they go back. Addison lets out a frustrated sigh when she notices that everyone’s bags are gone.

“Our packs.” Hailey says.

“So much for my GPS and my satellite phone.” Roy whines.

“What the hell is going on?”

“It’s smart. It wants to cut us off so we can’t call for help.” Sam explains.

“You mean someone, some nut job, out there just stole all our gear.” Roy argues and Addison moves over to stand by Dean.

“I need to speak with you two…in private.” Sam tells them and they walk away from the group, but are still able to keep an eye on them. “Good. Let me see Dad’s journal.” Dean pulls the worn leather journal from where he had hidden it in his jacket and hands it to Sam. “All right, check that out.” He points to the stick figure drawing and Addison groans when she notices that the title of the page says ‘Wendigo.’

“Oh come on, wendigos are in Minnesota woods or Northern Michigan. I’ve never even heard of one this far west.” Dean replies and Addison sends him a look.

“It does make sense. The claw marks, the voice, the tracks suddenly stopping.” Addison argues.

“Great.” Dean replies and holds up his gun. “Well, then this is useless.”

“We gotta get these people to safety.” Sam says as they walk back over to the campsite. “All right, listen up, time to go. Things have gotten more complicated.”

Hailey frowns. “What?”

“Kid, don’t worry, whatever’s out there, I think I can handle it.” Roy responds and holds up the rifle he was carrying.

“It’s not me I’m worried about, if you shoot this thing you’re just gonna make it mad. We have to leave now.”

“One, you’re talking nonsense, and two, you’re in no position to give anybody orders.”

“Guys.” Addison says and they ignore her.

“We never should have let you come out here in the first place, all right. I’m trying to protect you,” Sam continues and Addison rolls her eyes, taking a seat on a nearby log.

“You protect me? I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you goodnight.” Roy counters.

“Yeah? It’s a damn near perfect hunter. It’s smarter than you and it’s gonna hunt you down and eat your alive unless we get your stupid sorry ass out of here.”

“You know you’re crazy right?”

“Yeah? You ever hunt a win—” Sam starts to say before Roy pushes him.

“Roy!” Hailey yells, trying to get them to stop fighting.

“Chill out.” Dean says, pushing them away from each other.

“Stop! Stop it, everybody just stop. Look, Tommy might still be alive and I’m not leaving here without him.”

“It’s getting late. This thing is a good hunter in the day, but an unbelievable hunter at night. We’ll never beat it, not in the dark. We need to settle in and protect ourselves." 

“How?” Roy retorts and hunters exchange a look.

* * *

Addison’s sitting across from Sam watching as Dean draws protective symbols around the campsite that night. Hailey, Ben (Hailey’s younger brother), and Roy were sitting around a fire a few feet away from them. “Sam, you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Sam replies and Addison gives him a disbelieving look as Dean walks over to them.

“People only say they’re fine when they want to reassure everyone else.”

“Dad’s not here. I mean that much we know for sure, right? He would have left us a message, a sign, right?”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. To tell you the truth, I don’t think Dad’s even been to Lost Creek.” Dean comments, taking a seat next to Addison on the log.

“Then let’s get these people back to town and let’s hit the road, go find Dad. I mean why are we still here?”

“This is why.” Dean holds up the journal. “This book. This is Dad’s single most valuable possession. Everything he knows about about every evil thing is in here. And he’s passed it onto us. I think he wants us to pick up where he left off, you know, saving people, hunting things. The family business.”

“That makes no sense. Why doesn’t he just call us? Why doesn’t he tell us what he wants; tell us where he is?”

“Don’t know. But the way I see it, Dad’s giving us a job to do and we intend to do it.”

Sam shakes his head. “No. I gotta find Dad. I gotta find Jessica’s killer. It’s the only thing I can think about.”

“Sam.” Addison sighs. “It’s gonna take time and you have to be patient. You can’t let all that anger inside build because it will destroy you.”

“How do you guys do it? How does Dad do it?”

“Well, for one…them.” Dean gestures to where Hailey and Ben are sitting. “I mean, I figure our families are so screwed to hell, maybe we can help some others. Makes things a little more bearable. I’ll tell you what else helps. Killing as many sons of bitches as we can possibly can.”

“Help me! Please! Help!” a voice yells out and the trio stands up.

“He’s trying to draw us out. Just stay cool, stay put, inside the magic circle.” Dean orders.

“Help! Help me!”

“Okay, that’s no grizzly.” Roy comments and Addison holds back a groan.

“It’s okay, you’ll be all right I promise.” Hailey says, comforting her younger brother.

“It’s here.” Sam states as Roy starts to shoot at it. A scream echoes from the woods.

“I hit it!” Roy shouts and runs into the woods.

“Roy, no! Roy!” Dean yells and turns to Addison, Hailey, and Ben. “Don’t move!” Addison nods and watches as he and Sam run after Roy.

* * *

The next morning, Addison is standing next to Dean as they explained to Hailey and Ben what had been going on and what they were hunting. “I don’t…I mean these types of things, they aren’t supposed to be real.” Hailey says and Addison gives her a sad smile.

“I know, but they are.” Addison replies.

“How do we know it’s not out there watching us?” Hailey asks them.

“We don’t, but we’re safe for now.” Dean reassures her.

“How do you know about this stuff?”

Dean and Addison exchange a look. “Kind of runs in our families.”

Addison shoots Sam as smile when he walks over to them. “Hey. So, we got half a chance in the daylight. And I, for one, want to kill this evil SOB.”

Dean smirks. “Well hell, you know we’re in.”

“What exactly is a Wendigo?” Ben asks.

“It’s Native American for evil that devours. Originally, they were human and most of the time it’s a Native American, miner, or a hunter. They all find their selves in the same situation, harsh winter with no supplies and starving. In order to survive they resorted to cannibalism.” Addison explains to Ben.

“Like the Donnor Party.”

“Sort of. I mean, cultures all over the world believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities. Speed, strength, immortality.”

“If you eat enough of it, over the years, you become this less than human. You’re always hungry.” Dean continues.

“So if that’s true, how can Tommy still be alive?” Hailey asks and Addison lets out a sigh.

“You’re not gonna like it.” Dean tells her.

“Tell me.”

“A Wendigo knows how to last long winters with no food.” Addison answers and Hailey looks at her. “They hibernate for years and when it’s awake, they keep their victims alive…to store them so that way whenever it becomes hungry, it can eat. They also keep their victims where it’s dark, hidden, and safe for them. So, if we want to find your brother we have to track it back to it’s hiding spot.”

“And then how do we stop it?”

“Well, guns are useless, so are knives. Basically…” Dean pulls out a can light fluid and holds it up. “We gotta torch the sucker.”

* * *

The group were following the trees with claw marks and blood on them. Sam suddenly stops walking and Addison shares a look with Dean. “Something the matter, Sam?” Addison asks him.

“You know…I was thinking…those claw marks…so clear and distinct, they were almost too easy to follow.” Sam tells them and a growl echoes through out the woods. Hailey screams and Addison turns to see Roy’s body lying on the ground. Addison stays where she’s standing as Dean walks over to the body with Sam heading towards Hailey.

“His neck’s broken. Okay, run, run, run, run, go, go!” Dean shouts at them and they quickly take off. Addison sees Ben trip and turns to help him up the same time Sam does.

“Come on, we gotta go.” Addison nervously says and they take off running.

A scream echoes through out the forest. “Hailey!” Ben shouts, running.

They stop when they come across a white cloth and broken glass on the ground. Ben looks around, searching for his sister. Addison bends down and picks up the cloth, dread flowing through her. “Dean!” Addison shouts. “Dean!”

“We need to keep going.” Sam says and the three of them start walking.

“If it keeps it victims alive, why would it kill Roy?” Ben asks.

“Probably because Roy pissed it off.” Addison answers and spots something on the ground. She walks over to it and smiles seeing a M&M. “Looks like Dean is leaving us a trail. One that’s better than bread crumbs.” Silence falls over the three of them as they follow the trail. Addison can feel Sam’s concerned look on her and she lets out a sigh. “Sam, stop it. Okay. I know we’re going to find Dean, you don’t have to reassure me or anything.”

“I guess that’s good.” Sam replies and they continue walking.

They come to a tunnel with a sign overhead reading, ‘Warning! Danger! Do not enter. Extremely toxic material’ and another reading, ‘Keep Out No Admittance.’ They enter the dark tunnel and a growl echoes through it. Addison presses herself against the wall as Sam shoves Ben to the wall. Ben looks down the tunnel to see the outline of a skinny man walking away and opens his mouth to scream, but Sam quickly covers his mouth. After a moment, they continue walking. The floor creeks and breaks, causing them to fall through the floor.

Addison lets out a groan and pushes herself up. “Ewe! Ewe! Gross!” she whispers, seeing the pile of skeletons they landed on. She darts off the pile and relief floods through her when she sees Dean hanging from the ceiling. She rushes over to him and shakes him. “Dean! Dean!” Dean opens his eyes. “Dean, you okay?”

“Yeah.” Dean answers, wincing and Sam reaches them as Ben reaches Hailey.

Addison moves over and allows Sam to untie his arms. “You sure you’re all right?” Sam asks, setting Dean on the ground.

“Yeah.” Dean groans. “Yep, where is he?”

“Not here.” Addison replies. Hailey lets out a scream and they turn to see her standing by a man hanging from the ceiling.

“Cut him down!" Hailey demands and Sam walks over to Hailey as Dean walks over to where a pile of backpacks was. “We’re gonna get you home.”

“Check it out.” Dean holds up a couple of flare guns before walking over to Addison.

“Flare guns…those will work.” Sam comments and Dean tosses him one. Addison gives him a quick smile, letting Dean know that she was fine and the six of them start walking out of the tunnel with Hailey and Ben carrying their brother, Tommy. They stop when a growl echoes throughout the tunnel.

“Looks like someone’s home for supper.”

“We’ll never outrun it.” Hailey tells them.

“You thinking what I’m thinking.” Dean comments and Addison shrugs.

“Yeah, I think so.” Sam answers.

“All right listen to me. Stay with Sam and Addison, they’re gonna get you out of here.”

“What are you gonna do?” Hailey asks him and Dean smirks, before walking down another tunnel shouting for the Wendigo.

“Can we please get out of here?” Addison asks and Sam nods, as the group continues out of the tunnels. Another growl echoes and they stop, looking around the dark tunnel. “We need to keep going.” Sam nods and goes to deal with the Wendigo as she leads the other three out of the tunnels. A shot echoes in the tunnel and Sam comes rushing at them.

“Come on, hurry, hurry, hurry!” Sam shouts and they reach the end of the tunnel. “Get behind me.”

The Wendigo appears in front of them and Addison clutches the back of Sam’s jacket. “Hey!” Dean shouts, appearing at the end of the tunnel. He shoots and hits the Wendigo in the stomach. She lets out a relieved sigh when the Wendigo bursts into flames. “Not bad, huh?”

* * *

“For the record, the next time there’s anything that requires camping, count me out, okay.” Addison says, leaning against Dean as the three of them watch the ambulance drive off with Hailey and her brothers in it.

“Same here.” Sam says and Addison laughs, a silence settles over them.

“Sam, you know we’re gonna find Dad, right.” Dean says.

“Yeah, I know…but in the mean time…I’m driving.” Sam tells them and Addison shakes her head while Dean tosses the keys to Sam. He gets off the Impala and gets in the driver’s seat.

Dean winces and wraps an arm around Addison’s shoulder. “I’m going to need a nurse tonight.”

Addison laughs and starts walking to the back door. “Only in your dreams, Dean.”


	3. Dead in the Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

“Can I get you anything else?” the waitress asks. Dean looks up from the newspaper he was looking at and gives the blonde waitress a smile. They had stopped at a diner for breakfast and he was looking through the local paper for a hunt.

“Just the check, please.” Sam says, taking a seat next to him and glances at Addison, whose gaze was glued to a book.

“Okay.” The waitress turns and walk away.

Dean lets out a sigh and looks at his younger brother. “You know, Sam, we are allowed to have fun once in a while.” He points in the direction that the waitress went. “That’s fun.”

“So, what’d you find?” Addison asks, closing her book.

Dean sets the paper on the counter and they look to see an obit circled in blue ink. “Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin. Last week, Sophie Carlton, eighteen, walks into the lake, doesn’t walk out. Authorities dragged the water — nothing. Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year. None of the other bodies were found either. They had a funeral two days ago.”

“A funeral?” Sam disbelievingly asks.

“Probably buried a coffin for closure.” Addison absently states.

“Closure? What closure? People don’t just disappear. Other people just stop looking for them.” Sam snaps.

Addison glances at Dean, not knowing what to tell the younger Winchester. “Something you want to say?” Dean asks, staring at his brother.

“The trail for Dad — it’s getting colder every day.”

“Exactly, so what are we supposed to do?”

“I don’t know. Something, anything.”

Dean folds the paper and slams it on the counter. “You know what? I’m sick of this attitude. You don’t think I wanna find Dad as much as you do?”

Sam sighs. “Yeah, I know you do, it’s just—”

“I’m the one that’s been with him every single day for the past four years, while you’ve been off at college, going to pep rallies. We will find Dad, but until then, we’re gonna kill everything bad between here and there. Okay?”

A tense silence falls over the brothers. Addison clears her throat and taps the paper. “How far to Lake Manitoc?”

* * *

The three of them walk up to a large wood cabin that sat near the shore of a large lake and Dean knocks on the door. A young man, wearing a jeans and a t-shirt, opens the door. “Will Carlton?” Dean asks.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Will answers.

“I’m Agent Ford, this is Agent Hamill and Agent Fisher. We’re with the U.S. Wildlife Service. We were wondering if we could have a few words with you about your sister’s death.”

“Okay.” Will replies. He walks over to the shoreline and the three hunters follow him. “She was about a hundred yards out. That’s where she got dragged down."

“Are you positive that she didn’t drown?” Addison softly asks.

“Yeah. She was a varsity swimmer. She practically grew up in that lake. She was as safe out there as she was in her own bathtub.” Will explains.

“So, no splashing? No signs of distress?” Sam asks.

Will shakes his head. “No, that’s what I’m telling you.”

“Did you see any shadows in the water? Maybe some dark shape breached the surface?”

“No. Again, she was really far out there.”

“You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?” Dean questions.

Will frowns. “No, never. Why? What do you thinks out there?”

“We’ll let you know as soon as we do.” Dean replies.

“What about your father?” Sam suddenly asks and Addison looks at the man sitting on the pier. “Can we talk to him?”

“Look, if you don’t mind, I mean…he didn’t see anything and he’s kind of been through a lot.” Will tells them.

“We understand.” Sam replies and the trio walks back over to the Impala.

* * *

Addison looks around the small police station as Sam talks to Sheriff Jake Devins. The sheriff was a middle aged man with salt and pepper hair. “Now, I’m sorry, but why does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?”

“You sure it’s accidental? Will Carlton saw something grab his sister.” Sam counters.

“Like what? Here sit, please.” Jake replies as they walk into an office. He motions to a couple of chairs and Dean quickly sits down. Addison takes a seat in the other empty chair, giving Sam a thankful smile. “There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake. There’s nothing even big enough to pull down a person, unless it was the Lock Ness monster.”

“Yeah, right.” Dean chuckles.

“Will Carlton was traumatized and sometimes the mind plays tricks. Still, we dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep just to be sure and there was nothing down there.”

“But that’s the third missing person this year.” Addison states.

Jake sighs. “I know. These are people from my town. These are people I care about.”

“We know.”

“Anyway…all this — it won’t be a problem much longer.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asks.

“Well the dam, of course.”

“Of course…the dam. It’s, uh, sprung a leak.”

“It’s falling apart, and the fed won’t give us the grant to repair it, so they’ve opened the spillway. In another six months there won’t be much of a lake. There won’t me much of a town either. But as Federal Wildlife, you already know that.”

“Exactly.” Dean replies as a knock comes from the doorway.

They turn and see a pretty, dark haired young woman standing there. “Sorry, am I interrupting? I can come back later.”

“Agents, this is my daughter.” Jake introduces and Addison gives her a soft smile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Dean,” Dean says, standing up and holding out his hand.

The woman shakes his hand and smiles. “Andrea Bar. Hi.”

Dean grins. “Hi."

“They’re from the Wildlife Service about the lake," Jake comments. Addison doesn’t miss the pained look on Andrea’s face.

“Oh.” A young boy with shaggy, dark red hair walks out from behind Andrea.

“Oh, hey there. What’s your name,” Dean asks and the boy walks away, with Andrea following him.

“His name is Lucas,” Jake answers.

“Is he okay,” Sam asks.

“My grandson’s been through a lot. We all have. Well, if there’s anything else I can do for you, please let me know,” Jake tells them, leading them out of the small office.

“Thanks,” Dean replies and Addison resists rolling her eyes when he looks at Andrea. He smirks at Andrea. “You know, now that you mentioned it, could you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced hotel.”

“Lakefront Motel, go around the corner, it’s about two blocks south,” Andrea answers.

“Two…” Dean trails off, frowning. “Would you mind showing us?”

Andrea stares in disbelief. “You want me to walk you two blocks?”

“Not if it’s any trouble.”

“I’m headed that way anyway,” Andrea replies and turns to Jake. “I’ll be back to pick up Lucas at three. We’ll go to the park, okay, sweeties?” Andrea places a kiss on the top of Lucas’ head and walks out of the station.

“Thanks again,” Sam tells Jake before they follow Andrea.

“So, cute kid,” Dean comments.

“Thanks,” Andrea says.

“Kids are the best, huh?”

Andrea ignores him and stops walking as Addison realizes that they’ve reached the motel. “There it is. Like I said. Two blocks.”

“Thank you,” Addison tells her and Andrea nods, before turning to Dean.

“Must be hard with your sense of direction. Never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line. Enjoy your stay,” Andrea says to Dean and walks away.

Addison lets out a laugh and looks at Dean. “Seriously. ‘Kids are the best?’ Dean, you don’t even like kids,” she says and Sam grins in amusement.

“I love kids,” Dean counters.

“Oh really? Then name three kids that you know.” After standing there for a couple of minutes, Addison shakes her head in disbelief and walks into the motel lobby. Sam laughs and follows her.  


“I’m thinking,” Dean shouts and lets out a sigh, going after them.

* * *

Addison walks out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel over her hair and wearing glasses. “When you’d get glasses,” Sam asks, looking up from his laptop.

“Few years ago. Who knew reading old books would be bad for someone’s eyesight. Any info on the case,” Addison says, taking a seat on the bed across from Dean, who was sitting next to Sam at the small table.

“So, there’s been three drownings victims this year.”

“Any before that,” Dean asks.

“Uh, yeah. Six more spread out over the past thirty-five years. Those bodies were never recovered either. If there is something out there, it’s pick up its pace.”

“So, what, we got a lake monster on a binge?”

“I don’t know. Lake monster just doesn’t seem right,” Addison comments.

Dean frowns. “Why not?”

“Uh, Loch Ness, Lake Champlain. Bot have hundreds of eyewitness accounts that claim to have seen them. But here? Nothing. There’s no one alive to talk,” Addison explains.

“She has a point, Dean,” Sam states.

Dean snaps his fingers and points to the website that Sam has open on his computer. “Wait, Bar, Christopher Bar. Where have I heard that name before?”

“Christopher Bar, the victim in May,” Sam reads and opens another link. “Oh. Christopher Bar was Andrea’s husband. Lucas’ husband. Apparently, he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned. It was two hours before the kid got rescued. Maybe we have an eyewitness after all.” 

“No wonder that kid was so freaked out. Watching one of your parents die isn’t something you just get over,” Dean comments and Addison sighs.

* * *

As the trio walks around the park, they find Andrea sitting on a bench. Addison gives her a soft smile. Lucas was playing alone by a sandbox. “Can we join you,” Sam softly asks.

“I’m here with my son,” Andrea informs them.

“Oh, mind if I say hi,” Dean asks and walks over to Lucas without waiting for an answer.

“Tell your friend the whole _Jerry Maguire_ thing’s not gonna work on me.”

“I doubt it has anything to do with that,” Addison says and they wait in silence while watching Dean interact with Lucas.

“Lucas hasn’t said a word, not even to me — not since his dad’s accident,” Andrea says after Dean rejoins them.

“Yeah, we heard. Sorry,” Dean replies.

“What are the doctors saying,” Sam questions.

“That it’s a kind of post-traumatic stress,” Andrea replies.

“This can’t be easy for either of you,” Addison softly says.

“We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot. It’s just…when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw…”

“Kids are strong. You’d be surprised with what they can deal with,” Dean replies.

“You know, he used to have such life. He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth. Now, he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish…” Andrea trails off as Lucas walks over to them, holding something. “Hey, sweetie.”

Lucas silent hands Dean a picture. “Thanks — thanks, Lucas,” Dean says and they watch as Lucas walks back to where he was playing.

* * *

Addison takes a seat on the bed next to Dean the next morning and softly smiles at him. “What,” he groans, seeing the look on her face.

“I think you talking to Lucas was sweet,” Addison softly replies. “And it had to be hard, talking to him.”

Dean shakes his head and stands up. “Ads—”

The door opens and Sam walks into the room. “So, I think it’s safe to say we can rule out Nessie.”

“What do you mean,” Dean asks, thankful that Sam had showed up when he did.

“I just drove past the Carlton house. There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead.”

“Did he drown,” Addison asks.

“Yep, in the sink.”

“What the hell,” Dean says. “So, you’re both right, this isn’t a creature; we’re dealing with something else.”

“Yeah, but what?”

“I don’t know. A water wraith maybe? Some kind of demon? I mean, something that controls water — water that comes from the same source.”

“The lake.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that explains why the body count is going up. I mean, since the lake is draining it’ll be dry in a few months. It’s trying to get what it wants before time runs out,” Addison says.

“And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere. This is gonna happen again soon.”

“And we do know one other thing for sure,” Sam states and they look at him, confused. “We know this has got something to do with Bill Carlton.”

“Took both his kids,” Addison comments.

“And I’ve been asking around. Lucas’ dad, Chris — Bill Carlton’s godson.” 

“Let’s go pay Mr. Carlton a visit,” Dean announces, grabbing his leather jacket off the back of a chair.

* * *

The trio walks down the dock to where Bill Carlton was sitting on the a bench. “Mr. Carlton,” Addison softly asks and he looks at her. “We’d like to ask you a couple of questions if you don’t mind.”

“We’re from the Department—” Dean starts.

“I don’t care who you’re with. I’ve answered enough questions today,” Bill coldly interrupts.

“Your son said he saw something in that lake,” Sam states. “What about you? You ever see anything out there?” Bill remains silent. “Mr. Carlton, Sophie’s drowning and Will’s death…we think there might be a connection to you or your family.”

“My children are gone. It’s — it’s worse than dying. Go away…please,” Bill begs and Addison nods, grabbing the boys and pulling them down the dock.

“What do you think,” Sam asks as they near the Impala.

“I think that poor man has been through hell,” Addison replies.

“And he’s not telling us something,” Dean continues.

“What is it,” Sam asks when Dean stops walking.

“Huh. Maybe Bill’s not the only one who knows something,” Dean says, pulling out the drawing that Lucas had given him. Addison looks over his shoulder and notices that the drawing is of the same house.

* * *

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Andrea says. Dean, Sam, and Addison stood in the living room of Andrea’s father’s house. As far as they were concerned, Lucas was the only one who would be able to help them.

“I just need to talk to him, just for a few minutes,” Dean begs.

Andrea sighs. “He won’t say anything. What good is it gonna do?”

“Andrea, we think more people might get hurt. We think something’s happening out there,” Sam explains.

Andrea shakes her head. “My husband, the others — they just drowned. That’s all.”

“If that’s what you really believe then, we’ll go. But if you think there’s even a possibility that something else could be going on here, please, let me talk to your son,” Dean says and Andrea reluctantly agrees, leading up to Lucas’ room.

Addison, Sam, and Andrea stand in the doorway as Dean walks into the room. “Hey, Lucas. You remember me,” Dean softly greets, kneeling down. “You know, I, uh, I wanted to thank you for that last drawing, but the thing is, I need your help again.”

Dean pulls out the other drawing and sets it down near Lucas. “How did you know to draw this? Did you know something bad was gonna happen? Maybe you could nod yes or no for me.” He sighs when Lucas doesn’t do anything. “You’re scared. It’s okay, I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom and I was scared too. I didn’t feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom — I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe your dad wants you to be brave, too.” Lucas looks at Dean for a moment then grabs another picture, handing it to him. “Thanks, Lucas.”

* * *

The Impala drives through the town as the three occupants look for the house that Lucas had drawn. It was a simple two story house, next to a church. “Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died,” Dean tells them.

“There’s been cases of people becoming more sensitive to premonitions and psychic tendencies after going through a traumatic experience,” Addison comments.

“Whatever’s out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow? I mean, it’s only a matter of time before somebody else drowns.” Sam shoots Addison a look and she shrugs causing Dean to glare at them. “If either of you got a better lead, please.”

“All right, we got another house to find,” Sam replies.

“The only problem is there’s about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone.”

“See this church,” Sam asks them, holding up the picture. “I be there’s less than a thousand of these around here.”

“Oh, college boy thinks he’s so smart.”

“You know, um, what you said about Mom…you never told me that before.” 

“It’s not big deal,” Dean replies, then groans. “Oh God, we’re not gonna have to hug or anything, are we?”

* * *

Addison looks around the house which was occupied by an older woman. After driving around for a few hours, they had finally found the house that was in the drawing. “We’re sorry to bother you, ma’am, but does a little boy live here, by chance? He might wear a blue ball cap, had a red bicycle,” Dean asks.

“No, sir. Not for a very long time. Peter’s been gone for thirty-five years now. The police never — I never had any idea what happened. He just disappeared. Losing him…” the woman pauses and Sam points out the toy soldiers sitting on the table to Dean and Addison. “You know it’s — it’s worse than dying.”

“Did he disappear from the house,” Addison softly asks.

The woman shakes her head. “He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school and he never showed up.”

Dean picks up a picture off the table and shows it to them. It contained two young boys, once with a red bicycle. “Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, 1970,” Dean reads.

* * *

“Okay this little boy, Peter Sweeney, vanishes, and all this is all connected to Bill Carlton somehow,” Sam states as the Impala speeds down the county road.

“Yeah, Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something, huh,” Dean comments.

“And Bill, the people he loves, are all getting punished.”

“So what if Bill did something to Peter?”

“Well, if Bill killed him then Peter’s spirit would be pissed and want revenge,” Addison tells them as they arrive at Carlton’s house. 

They get out of the Impala and look for Bill, only to hear an engine. “Hey, check it out.” They run over to the dock and shouts for Bill to come back, but he doesn’t listen. Water rises up and flips the boat Bill was sitting in.

* * *

Sam, Dean, Addison, and Jake walk into the sheriff’s office only to find Andrea and a scared looking Lucas sitting there. “Sam, Dean, Addison, I didn’t expect to see you here,” Andrea greets, standing up with Lucas.

“So, now you’re on a first name basis,” Jake says, looking between his daughter and the trio. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought you dinner,” Andrea replies, handing him a paper bag.

Jake sighs. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’t really have the time.”

“I heard about Bill Carlton, is it true? Is something going on with the lake?”

“Right now we don’t know what the truth is. But I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home,” Jake tells her.

Lucas lets out a whimper and gets out of the chair. He tugs on Dean’s arm and Dean kneels down to look Lucas in the eye. “Lucas, hey, what is it?” Lucas doesn’t answer, just whimpers louder. “Lucas, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

Andrea grabs Lucas’ hand and leads him out of the office. As soon as they’re out of earshot, Jake turns to the trio. “Okay, just so I’m clear, you saw something attack Bill’s boat. Sending Bill, who is a very good swimmer, by the way, into the drink and you never see him again?”

“Yeah, that about sums it up,” Dean replies.

“And I’m supposed to believe this? Even through I’ve already sonar swept that entire lake and what you’re describing is impossible and you’re not really Wildlife Service?” The trio exchanges a surprised look. “That’s right, I checked. The department’s never heard of you three.”

“We can explain—” Addison starts.

“Enough please,” Jake snaps. “The only reason you’re breathing free air, is one of Bill’s neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did. So, we have a couple of options here: I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton’s disappearance. Or we can chalk all this up to a bad day, you get into your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don’t ever darken my doorstep again.”

“Door number two sounds good,” Sam replies. 

“That’s the one I’d pick.”

* * *

“Green,” Sam announces and Dean looks at him, confused. The road was empty save for the Impala. After leaving the sheriff’s office, they had returned to their motel room and quickly packed up.

“What,” Dean asks.

“Uh, the light’s green, Dean,” Addison informs him and Dean turns left, causing her and Sam to exchange a confused look. “You do know that the interstate is the other way, right?”

“I know."

“Okay, you do know that this job is over.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter’s spirit got it’s revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest,” Sam tells him.

“All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn’t done. You know, what if we missed something? What if more people get hurt?”

“But why would you think that?”

“Because Lucas was really scared.”

“Wait a minute, that’s what this is about,” Addison disbelievingly asks.

“I just don’t want to leave town till I know the kid’s okay.”

“Okay, who are you and what have you done with Dean Winchester?”

“Shut up,” Dean replies and Addison laughs as Sam watches with a grin.

* * *

When they reach Andrea’s house, it’s the middle of the night. They get out of the Impala and walk up to the front door. “Are you sure about this,” Sam questions. “Its pretty late man.”

Instead of answering, Dean rings the doorbell. The door flings open and Lucas stares at them, panting. Lucas turns and takes off. “Lucas? Lucas!” Dean takes off after Lucas, leaving Sam and Addison to follow after him. 

When they reach him, Lucas is pounding on the bathroom door. Addison gently pulls Lucas out of the way, letting Dean kick open the door. Dean and Sam rush into the bathroom and forcefully pull Andrea out of the bathtub. Andrea and Sam land on the floor and she coughs up water.

* * *

Later in the morning, Sam, Addison, and Andrea were sitting at the kitchen table while Dean was looking through some books on a shelf a shelf. “Can you tell us what happened,” Sam softly asks.

“No. It doesn’t make any sense,” Andrea tearfully responds. “I’m going crazy.”

“You’re not going crazy,” Addison says and Andrea looks at her. “But you need to tell us everything that happened.”

“I heard — I thought I heard…there was this voice.”

“What’d it say?”

“It said — it said ‘come play with me.’” Andrea shakes her head. “What’s happening?”

Dean sets down a photo album, with pictures of what appear to be a Boy Scout troop. “Do you recognize the kids in these pictures?”

“What? Um, no. I mean, except that’s my dad right there. He must have been around twelve in these pictures,” Andrea explains, pointing out a young Jake standing next to Peter Sweeney.

“Chris Bar’s drowning — the connection wasn’t to Bill Carlton. It must have been to the Sheriff.”

“Bill and the Sheriff — they were both involved with Peter,” Sam says.

“What about Chris? My dad? What are you talking about,” Andrea asks, looking between the three hunters.

Dean notices Lucas staring out of the window. “Lucas? Lucas, what is it?” Lucas doesn’t answer but walks outside instead. They follow him to a spot and Lucas looks from the ground to Dean. Heturns to Andrea. “You and Lucas get back to the house and stay there, okay?”

Andrea takes Lucas inside and Sam runs to the Impala, quickly grabbing some shovels. They dig until they find an old red bicycle. “Peter’s bike,” Sam states.

“Who are you,” Jake demands and they turn to see him pointing a gun at them.

“How about you put down the gun, Jake,” Addison asks, holding up her hands.

“How did you know that was there?”

“What happened? You and Bill killed Peter, drowned him in the lake and then buried the bike? You can’t bury the truth, Jake. Nothing stays buried,” Dean says.

Jake tightens his grip on his gun. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“You and Bill killed Peter Sweeney thirty-five years ago. That’s what the hell I’m talking about.”

“Dad,” Andrea shouts, running over to them.

“And now you got one seriously pissed off spirit.”

“It’s gonna takes Andrea, Lucas, everyone you love. It’s gonna drown them. And it’s gonna drag their bodies God knows where, so you can feel the same pain Peter’s mom felt. And then, after that, it’s gonna take you and it’s not gonna stop until it does,” Sam tells him.

“Yeah, and how do you know that,” Jake demands.

“Because it did the same exact damn thing to Bill Carlton,” Addison replies.

“Listen to yourselves, the three of you. You’re insane.”

“I don’t really give a rat’s ass what you think of us. But if we’re gonna bring down this spirit, we need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them. Now, tell me you buried Peter somewhere. Tell me you didn’t just let him go into the lake,” Dean replies.

“Dad, is any of this true,” Andrea asks, staring at her father.

“No. Don’t listen to them, they’re liars and they’re dangerous,” Jake tells her.

“Something tried to drown me. Chris died on that lake. Dad, look at me,” Andrea demands and Jake looks at her. “Tell me you — you didn’t kill anyone…” Andrea trails off in shock. “Oh my God.”

“Billy and I were at the lake. Peter was the smallest one. We always bullied him, but this time — it got rough. We were holding his head under the water, we didn’t mean to. But we held him under too long and he drowned. We let the body go and it sank.” Peter shakes his head as guilt consumes him. “Oh, Andrea, we were kids. We were so scared. It was a mistake.” He looks at his daughter. “But, Andrea, to say that I have anything to do with these drownings, with Chris, because of some ghost. It’s not rational.”

“All right, listen to me, all of you. We need to get you away from this lake as far as we can right now,” Dean tells them and Andrea lets out a gasp when she sees Lucas heading towards the lake.

“Lucas,” Jake shouts, running down the dock with the others following him.

“Lucas,” Dean yells.

“Lucas! Baby, stay where you are,” Andrea orders. A pale hand reaches up and pulls Lucas into the water as they reach the edge of the lake. Andrea, Sam, Dean, and Addison run down the dock. The boys dive into the water.

Andrea starts to take off her jacket, but Addison grabs her arm. “No, just stay here,” Addison tells him.

“No, Lucas!”

“Look, they’ll get him. So, just stay here.” Dean and Sam come up and see that neither of them has Lucas. They exchange a look, then dive back down.

“Lucas, where are you,” Andrea screams.

“Peter, if you can hear me. Please, Peter, I’m sorry. I’m so — I’m so sorry,” Jake says. Andrea and Addison turn to see him walking into the lake.

“Daddy, no!”

“Jake, stop,” Addison shouts and he walks further in.

“Peter. Lucas — he’s just a little boy. Please, it’s not his fault, it’s mine. Please take me,” Jake continues.

“Jake, no,” Dean shouts.

Peter comes up from the lake and Jake sees him. “Just let it be over,” he begs. Peter grabs Jake and drags him down.

“Daddy! Daddy! No,” Andrea cries. Dean dives back down as Sam does the same. After a minute, Sam comes back up and shakes his head. Addison wraps her arms around Andrea and they sink down to the dock together. Dean shoots up, holding Lucas and Andrea lets out a relived sob.

* * *

Addison gives Dean a sad smile and leans against the front of the Impala. “Dean, we can’t save everyone,” she softly says, knowing that he was beating himself up about Jake’s death.

“I know,” Dean replies.

“Sam, Dean, Addison,” Andrea greets, walking over to them with Lucas.

“Hey.”

“We’re glad we caught you. We just, um, we made you lunch for the road,” Andrea explains, motioning to the tray that Lucas was holding. “Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself.”

“Can I give it to them now,” Lucas softly asks and Andrea kisses his forehead.

“Of course.”

“Come on, Lucas, let’s load this into the car,” Dean tells him and walks away.

“How are you doing,” Addison asks.

Andrea sighs. “It’s just gonna take a long time to sort through everything, you know.”

“Andrea, we’re sorry,” Sam tells her.

“You saved my son. I can’t ask for more than that. Dad loved me. He loved Lucas. No matter what he did, I just have to hold onto that.” Andrea gives them a smile and walks over to Dean. She leans up and presses a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you." 

Dean glances at Addison and starts to get into the Impala. “Sam, Ads, move your asses. We’re gonna run out of the daylight before we hit the road.” Addison shakes her head in disbelief and climbs into the backseat. The trio smiles at Andrea and Lucas waves goodbye as they drive away.

* * *

That night as they’re sitting in a motel room, Dean plops down on the bed next to Addison. “So, uh…” Dean starts and Addison glances up at him from the book she was reading.

“I thought you didn’t do chick flick moments.” Addison amusedly replies.

“How long have we’ve been hunting together, Ads?”

“You know exactly how long.” She shoots him a soft smile. “It took a lot for you to say what you did to Lucas, didn’t it?” Dean crawls over her. He rips the book out of her hands and drops it on the floor. His lips are inches away from heres and her gaze can’t help but dart between his lips and his eyes. “Dean, what are you doing?”

Dean smirks and grinds against her. His smirk widens when she lets out a strangled moan. He starts to lean down, but she places a hand on his chest. “Ads—”

Addison stares at him as she hears the shower shut off. “I think you’re gonna want a cold shower, Dean.”

Dean drops his head onto her shoulder and lets out a frustrated groan. “One day, Ads, you’ll change your mind.”

“And I’m sure that you’ll be right there when I do.”


	4. Phantom Traveler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

A door slamming shut jerks Dean awake in the dark motel room and he lets out a groan. Addison was asleep in the bed next to him. She rolls towards Dean, letting her soft snoring filling the room. "Morning," Sam greets, walking in the room.

"What time is it," Dean tiredly asks him, rubbing his face.

Sam glances at the bedside clock. ”It's about 5:45."

"In the morning?"

"Yep."

"Where does the day go?" Dean sits up and hits Addison on the ass, trying to wake her up. "Did you get any sleep last night?" He grabs a cup of coffee from the holder that Sam was carrying as the younger Winchester takes a seat on the other bed.

"Yeah, I grabbed a couple of hours."

"Liar. Cause I was up at three and you were watching that George Foreman infomercial." Dean shakes Addison's shoulder and she rolls away from him. "I swear waking her up is like waking up a hibernating bear." He looks over at Sam. "When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?"

"I don't know. A little while, I guess. It's not a big deal."

"Yeah, it is."

Sam sighs. "Look, I appreciate your concern—"

"Oh, I'm not concerned about you. It's your job to keep our asses alive, so I need you sharp. Seriously, are you still having nightmares about Jess?"

"Yeah, but it's not just her. It's everything. I just forgot, you know? This job — man, it gets to you."

"Well, you can't let it. You can't bring it home like that."

"So, what? All this — it never keeps you up at night," Sam asks him and Dean shakes his head. "Never? You're never afraid?"

"No, not really." Sam reaches under Dean's pillow and pulls out a knife, prompting the older Winchester to take it away. "That's not fear. That's precaution."

Sam shakes his head in disbelief. "All right, whatever. I'm too tired to argue."

Dean's phone rings and he grabs it from the nightstand. "Hello. Oh right, yeah, up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing. It's not back, is it? What is it? Yeah, see you later."

Sam shoots him a questioning look. "A job?"

"Probably. Get up." Dean shakes Addison's shoulder once more.

"I'm not having sex with you, Dean.” comes Addison's muffled reply. Sam laughs and Dean glares at him.

"Addison, get your ass up. We have to hit the road.” Dean says, growing annoyed with her.

Addison lets out a groan and throws back the covers, getting out of bed. “All right fine, I'll get up. Just stop your bitching." Sam grins, but quickly drops it when Addison swiftly grabs the third cup in the holder. She grabs her duffle and walks into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

Addison walks next to Sam and behind Dean and Jerry as they walk through the warehouse where airplanes were being worked on. "Thanks for making the trip so quick. I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around," Jerry says and turns to Sam. "Dean, Addison, and your dad really helped me out."

"Yeah, they told me. It was a poltergeist," Sam asks.

"Poltergeist? Man, I loved that movie," an employee shouts.

"Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking," Jerry shouts back. "Damn right, it was a poltergeist — practically tore our house apart. I'll tell you something, Dean, if it wasn't for you, Addison, and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive. Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?"

Sam nods. "Yeah, I was. I'm taking some time off."

"Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time."

Sam glances at Dean and Addison, but they avoid his gaze. "He did?"

"Yeah, you bet he did. Oh, hey, you know, I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?"

"He's, um, he's wrapped up in a job right now," Dean answers.

"Well, we're missing the old man. We get Sam. Even trade, huh?"

"No, not by a long shot," Sam replies.

"I've got something I want you guys to hear," Jerry tells them as they enter his office. He closes the door and grabs a CD that was sitting on his desk before placing it in a CD player. "I listened to this. Well, it sounded like it was up your alley. Normally, I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia Flight 2485. It was one of ours."

Jerry plays the CD and they listen to static, some people talking and then a hiss before the CD ends. "Took off from here — crashed about two hundred miles south. Now, they're saying mechanical failure. The cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board — only seven got out alive. The pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh, well, he's pretty broken up about it — like it was his fault."

"And you don't think it was," Addison asks him.

"No, I don't."

"Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, a list of survivors—" Sam starts.

"Right. And any way we can take a look at the wreckage," Dean interrupts.

"The other stuff is no problem, but the wreckage — the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way, I've got that kind of clearance," Jerry explains and Dean shrugs. 

"No problem."

* * *

Addison holds out the bag of chips to Sam as they wait by the Impala for Dean to come out of a local copy store. Sam shakes his head and Addison shrugs as Dean exits the copy store. "You've been in there forever," Sam says.

"You can't rush perfection," Dean counters, holding up the three fake IDs.

Addison grabs one from him and stares in disbelief. "Are you serious? Homeland Security? That's illegal, Dean. Even for us."

"Yeah, well, it's something new, you know? People haven't seen it a thousand times," Dean explains as the three of them climb into the Impala. "All right, so, what do you got?"

"Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder," Sam tells him, pulling his laptop out and opening it.

"Yeah?"

"Listen." Sam plays the recording and after a minute, a voice says 'no survivors.'

"No survivors? What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors."

"Got me."

"So, what are you thinking? A haunted flight?"

"There's history of phantom travelers, like spirits or death omens, appearing on ships and planes," Addison says.

"Mm-hmm."

"There's Flight 401—"

Dean nods. "The one that crashed, then the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirits of the pilot and co-pilot haunted those flights."

"Uh huh."

"Maybe we've got a similar deal," Sam comments.

Dean picks up the list of survivors and holds it up. "All right, so, survivors — which one do you wanna talk to first?"

"Third on the list — Max Jaffey."

"Why him?"

"One, is that he lives here. And secondly, he's the person who saw something weird," Addison answers.

"What makes you say that?" 

"I talked to his mother and she told me where to find him."

* * *

Dean, Addison, and Sam are standing outside the Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital talking to Max, a survivor of the plane crash. "I don't understand. I already spoke with Homeland Security," he tells them.

"Right. Some new information has come up. So, if you could just answer a couple questions—" Dean begins.

"Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything unusual," Sam asks him.

"Like what," Max replies.

"Strange lights, weird noises, maybe…voices,” Dean suggests.

Max shakes his head."No, nothing."

"Mr. Jaffey, you checked yourself in, correct," Addison softly asks him and Max nods. "Do you mind me asking why?"

Max shrugs. "I was a little stressed. I survived a plane crash."

"So what scared you so badly to check in? What are you afraid of?"

"I-I don't wanna talk about this anymore."

"Mr. Jaffey, if you saw something, then we need to know about it."

"No. No, I was delusional — seeing things."

"He was seeing things," Dean states and Addison glares at him before turning back to Max.

"That's perfectly okay. How about you tell us about what you thought you saw? Please," Addison asks him.

"There was…this…man. And, uh, he had these…eyes — these, uh, black eyes. And I saw him — or I thought I saw him…"

"What," Dean asks.

"He opened the emergency exit. But that's — that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door."

"This man — did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It wouldn't look something like a mirage," Sam asks. 

"What are you, nuts? He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me," Max explains and the three of them exchange a look.

* * *

"Here we are — George Phelps, seat twenty C," Sam announces as they arrive at a nice suburban house.

"Hmm. Man, I don't care how strong you are," Dean says as they get out of the Impala. "Even yoked up on PCP or something, no way you can open up an emergency door during a flight."

"Not if you're human. But maybe this guy, George, was something else — a creature maybe, in human form?"

"No offense, Sam, but that house doesn't exactly look like some kind of creature's lair," Addison comments, walking up the steps. Dean shrugs and follows her, with Sam bringing up the rear. She knocks on the door and an older woman answers. "Hi, we're with Homeland Security. We were wondering if we could have a moment of your time." The woman nods and they enter the house.

Sam notices a photo on the coffee table of a man and picks it up. "This is your late husband," he asks.

"Yes, that was my George," Mrs. Phelps answers.

"What did your husband do," Dean asks.

"George was a dentist. He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go like that…"

"How long were you married," Addison softly asks and Mrs. Phelps smiles.

"Thirteen years."

"In all that time, did you ever notice anything…strange about him — anything out of the ordinary," Sam asks.

"Well, uh, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean," Mrs. Phelps tells them.

"Thank you for your time," Sam says and the three of them exit the house. "I mean, it goes without saying. It just doesn't make any sense."

"Yeah, a middle-aged dentist with an ulcer is not exactly evil personified. You know, what we need to do is get inside that NTSB warehouse, check out the wreckage," Dean replies.

“All right. But you two have to look the part then," Addison says, smirking.

* * *

When Dean and Sam exit the store, dressed in black suits, Addison grins. She walks up to them, dressed in a black blazer and a black knee length skirt, with a light pink tank top and a pair of black heels. "Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers," Dean complains.

"No, you don't. You look more like a seventh grader at his first dance," Sam replies.

"You do want to get in the warehouse, right," Addison asks. Dean doesn't reply and gets in the Impala. Addison shakes her head in disbelief and gets into the backseat as Sam gets into the front.

* * *

As they walk into the warehouse, the three of them pull out their IDs to the security guard, who nods and lets them in. Addison notices Dean pulling out his EMF meter and puts on the headphones. "What is that," Sam asks, gesturing to the device.

"It's an EMF meter — reads electromagnetic frequencies," Dean tells him.

"Yeah, I know what an EMF meter is, but why does that one look like a busted up Walkman?"

"Cause that's what I made it out of. It's homemade."

"Yeah, I can see that," Sam replies, walking away. Seeing the annoyed look on Dean's face, Addison rubs his back then follows after Sam.

They search the wreckage in silence until the EMF meter goes off. "Check out the emergency door handle."

Addison walks over to him and frowns seeing that yellow substance on the handle. "What is that?"

"One way to find out," Sam says and pulls out a plastic bag and pocketknife. He scrapes some off and into the bag. They exit through the back of the warehouse. Suddenly an alarm goes off and Addison lets out a frustrated sigh. They run to the fence and Dean takes off his suit jacket, throwing it over the top. Quickly, the three of them scale the fence and land on the other side.

Dean jumps up and grabs his jacket as they take off towards the Impala. "Huh. These monkey suits do come in handy.”

* * *

Having changed into regular clothes after leaving the warehouse, the three of them were standing in Jerry's office watching as he examined the substance they had found with a microscope. "Huh. This stuff is covered in sulfur," he tells them, looking up.

"You're sure," Sam asks him.

"Take a look," Jerry replies as a yelling comes from the hallway. "If you will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire." Addison moves out of the way as Jerry exits the office.

"Hmm. You know, there's not too many things that leave behind a sulfuric residue," Dean comments.

"Demonic possession," Sam asks.

"It would explain how that man had the strength to open the emergency hatch," Addison says.

"If the guy was possessed, it's possible."

"Yeah, but this goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean, it's one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane," Dean tells them and Addison shrugs.

"You ever heard of something like this before?" 

"Never."

* * *

Addison lets out a frustrated sigh and lays her head on her laptop. After leaving Jerry's office, they had went back to the motel room and were currently researching what could have made the plane crash. "So, every religion in the every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right," Sam asks, breaking the silence. "I mean, Christian, Native American, Hindu — you name it."

"Yeah, but none of them describe anything like this," Dean counters and Addison sits up.

"The Japanese believe that specific demons are behind certain disasters. Natural and man-made," she tells them.

"And this one causes plane crashes," Dean disbelievingly asks and looks at Sam, who shrugs. "All right, so, what? We've got a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?"

"Yeah. You know, who knows how many planes it's brought down before this," Sam comments and Dean turns way, scratching his head in frustration. "What?"

"I don't know, man. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons — they don't want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. This is big. You know, I wish Dad was here."

"Yeah. Me too."

Dean's cell rings and he grabs it off the table. "Hello. Oh, hey, Jerry. Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened? Where'd this happen? I'll try to ignore the irony in that. Nothing. Jerry, hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon."

"Another crash," Sam asks after Dean hangs up his cell.

"Yeah. Let's go."

"Where was it," Addison asks, pulling on her jacket.

"Nazareth," Dean answers and Addison shakes her head in disbelief.

* * *

"Sulfur," Dean asks Jerry, who nods, as they once more stand in his office. They had drove to Nazareth, found a piece of the wreckage and quickly drove to the warehouse where Jerry works. "Well, that's great. All right, so, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him."

"With all due respect to Chuck, um, if that's the case, that would be the good news," Sam says.

"And the bad news," Addison asks, knowing that it was coming.

"Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into the flight. And get this — so did Flight 2485."

"Forty minutes? What does that mean," Jerry asks, confused.

"It's Biblical numerology. On Noah's Ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death," Dean explains.

"I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in," Sam says.

"Were there any survivors," Addison asks.

"No. Or not until now, at least — not until Flight 2485, for some reason. And the cockpit voice recorder — remember what the EVP said?"

"No survivors," Dean states and Sam nods. "It's going after all the survivors. It's trying to finish the job.”

* * *

"Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey and if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks," Sam says and hangs up his cell. "All right, that takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon."

"So, our only wildcard is the flight attendant, Amanda Walker," Dean says, glancing in the rear view mirror to see Addison hang up her phone in frustration.

"Her sister, Karen, said that her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight p.m. And it's her first night back on the job," Addison explains.

"That sounds like just our luck."

"Dean, this is a five-hour drive, man. Even with you behind the wheel," Sam tells him.

"Why don't you call Amanda's cell phone again — see if we can't head her off at the pass."

"Dean, I've already left three voice mails. She probably turned off her cell anyway. Besides it's not like we're gonna make it," Addison says.

"Oh, we'll make it," Dean replies, pressing down on the gas, to the dismay of both Addison and Sam.

* * *

When they arrive at the airport, Dean quickly parks the Impala and they run into the departing flights area. "Right there," Sam says, pointing to a screen with the times of departing flights. "They're boarding in thirty minutes."

"Okay. We still have some cards to play. We need to find a phone," Dean replies and after a few minutes, they find a phone. Dean grabs it and talks to the operator. "Hi. Gate thirteen — I'm trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She's a flight attendant on Flight, um..."

"424," Addison tells him.

"Fight 424."

"Amanda Walker, Amanda Walker. You have a phone call at the white courtesy phone, gate thirteen," a voice over a loudspeaker says.

"Come on. Miss Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Headfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here. Nothing serious — just a minor car accident. But she was injured, so — You what? Uh, well. There must be some mistake. Guilty as charged. He's really sorry. Yes, but he really needs to see you tonight, so — Don't be like that. Come on, the guy's a mess, really. It's yeah. No, no, wait, Amanda. Amanda!" Dean slams the phone back down in frustration. "Damn it! So close."

"All right, its time for plan B. We're getting on that plane," Sam says.

"Now, just hold on a second."

"Dean, that plane is going to be taking off with over a hundred people on board and might crash," Addison reminds him.

"I know!"

"We're getting on the plane, we need to find that demon, and exorcise it. Look, we'll get the tickets. You just go and get whatever you can out of the trunk, whatever will make it through security. Meet us back here in five minutes," Sam tells him and Dean just stands there. "Are you okay?"

"No, not really."

"Hey. What's the matter," Addison softly asks him.

"Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh..." Dean waves his hand in the air, like a plane taking off.

Addison stares at him."With flying?"

"It's never really been an issue until now."

"You're joking, right," Sam disbelievingly asks him.

"Do I look like I'm fucking joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?"

"All right. Uh, we'll go."

"What?"

"Me and Addison will do this one on our own."

"What are you, nuts? You both said the plane's gonna crash."

"Look, Dean, we can do it together, or we can do this by ourselves. I'm not seeing a third option here." 

"Come on! Really," Dean asks and looks at Addison, who nods in agreement with Sam. "Man."

* * *

Addison grabs Dean's hand and rubs it as they sit on the plane, getting ready to take off. Sam, sitting in the window seat, leans over Addison to Dean. "Just try to relax," he tells his older brother.

"Just try to shut up," Dean counters and Sam laughs. Dean pulls his hand from Addison and nervously tightens his seatbelt. He grabs Addison's hand and squeezes as the plane starts to take off. After they've been in the air for few minutes, Dean is humming and still squeezing Addison's hand.

"Are you humming Metallica," Sam asks him.

"It calms me down."

"Dean, I know that you're nervous and everything, but you have to stay focused," Addison tells him, trying to pull her hand away. "And you've got to let of my hand, because I've got almost no feeling in it." Dean releases her hand and Addison gives him a thankful smile, trying not to show the pain.

"We've got thirty-two minutes and counting to track this thing down, or whoever it's possessing, anyway, and perform a full on exorcism," Sam whispers.

"It's not exactly going to be easy on a crowded plane," Addison tells him.

"Let's just take it one step at a time, all right? Now, who is it possessing?"

"Well, it's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness, you know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through — somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress," Dean explains.

"This is the first flight Amanda has been on since the crash," Addison says and Dean nods, stopping a flight attendant that passes them.

"Excuse me. Are you Amanda?"

"No, I'm not," the flight attendant replies.

"Oh, my mistake," Dean says and the flight attendant walks away. He looks down the back of the plane and sees a blonde woman near the bathroom. "All right, well, that's got to be Amanda back there, so, I'll go talk to her and, uh, I'll get a read on her mental state."

"What if she's already possessed," Sam asks him.

"There's ways to test that." Dean reaches into the bag and pulls out a water bottle. "I brought holy water."

Addison grabs the water bottle out of his hand. "Dean, you're not going to splash water on her. It's way too obvious."

"If she's possessed, she'll finch at the name of God," Sam says before an argument breaks out.

"Oh. Nice," Dean replies and starts to get up but Sam stops him.

"Say it in Latin."

"I know."

"Hey!"

"What!"

"In Latin, it's 'Cristo.'"

"Dude, I know, I'm not an idiot," Dean tells him and walks to the back of the plane.

"I think Dean broke my hand," Addison comments, rubbing her hand. "Seriously, I think he did."

"Did you know that he was afraid to fly," Sam asks and Addison shakes her head.

"No. But everyone is scared of something."

"Yeah. What are you scared of, Ads?"

Addison smirks. "It's a secret."

"All right, well, she's got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet," Dean says, sitting back down in his seat.

"You said 'Cristo,'" Sam asks him.

"Yeah."

"And?"

"There's no demon in her. There's no demon getting in her."

"So, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone, anywhere."

The plane starts to shake and Addison tears her hand away from the armrest before Dean can grab it. "Come on! That can't be normal!"

"Hey, hey, it's just a little turbulence."

"Sam, this plane is going to crash, okay? So quit treating me like I'm fucking four!"

"Dean, calm down," Addison says.

"Well, I'm sorry, I can't!"

"Dean, if you don't calm down, then the demon can posses you," Addison softly snaps. "So, take a deep breath and let it out slowly." Dean does what she says and starts to calm down.

"I found an exorcism in here that I think is gonna work," Sam says, waving John's journal. "The ritual Romano."

"What do you have to do?"

"It's two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful."

"What do you mean more powerful?"

"Well, it doesn't need to possess someone anymore. It can just wreak havoc on its own."

"Oh, and why is that a good thing," Dean asks him.

"Well, because the second part sends the bastard back to Hell, once and for all," Sam answers. 

"First thing's first — we've got to find it."

* * *

“I don't think this is gonna work," Addison softly comments, following Dean to the back of the plane, with Sam behind her. She had sat and waited while he and Sam searched the plane for the demon. It hadn't taken long to find that the demon was possessing the co-pilot.

"Twelve minutes, Ads," Dean reminds as they walk past the curtain.

A blonde flight attendant, Amanda, turns to them. "Oh, hi. Flight's not too bumpy for you, I hope."

"Actually, that's kind of what we need to talk to you about."

"Um, okay. What can I do for you?"

"All right, this is gonna sound nuts, but we just don't have time for the whole 'the truth is out there' speech right now."

"We know you were on Flight 2485," Addison states.

"Who are you guys," Amanda asks them.

"We've spoken to some of the other survivors. We know something brought down that plane and it wasn't mechanical failure," Sam continues.

"And we need your help because we need to stop it from happening again, here, now," Dean finishes.

"I-I'm sorry, I'm very busy," Amanda replies and starts to leave, but is stopped by Dean.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second. I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? But listen to me — the pilot from 2485, Chuck Lambert — he's dead."

"Wait, what? Chuck is dead?"

"He died in a plane crash the other day," Addison says. "The second plane crash in two months. You don't think that's strange?"

"Look, there was something wrong with 2485. Now, maybe you sensed it, and maybe you didn't, but there's something wrong with this flight, too," Sam says.

"Amanda, you have to believe us," Dean begs.

"On — on 2485, there was this man. He had these eyes," Amanda explains.

"Yes, that's exactly what we're talking about," Sam tells her.

"But I don't understand. What are you asking me to do?"

"Get the co-pilot. We need you to bring him back here," Dean says.

"Why? What does he have to do with anything?"

"Don't have time to explain. We just need to talk to him, okay?"

"But how am I supposed to go into the cockpit and get the co-pilot—"

"Tell him something broke," Addison interrupts. "Just get him to come back here."

"Do you know that I could lose my job if—"

"You're gonna lose a lot more than that if you don't help us out," Dean tells Amanda.

"Okay," Amanda says after a minute and walks out of the back area. Sam hands Addison the holy water, then takes out John's journal. As soon as the co-pilot enters the back of the plane, Dean punches him and throws him on the ground, covering his mouth with duct tape. "What are you doing? You said you were just gonna talk to him!"

"We are gonna talk to him," Dean replies and holds the co-pilot down as Addison pours the holy water on him.

His shirt starts to burn the clothing he was wearing. "Oh my God, what's wrong with him," Amanda asks.

"We need you calm. We need you outside the curtain. Don't let anybody in, okay? Can you do that," Sam asks and Amanda remains quiet. "Amanda?"

"Okay. Okay," Amanda replies and moves outside the curtain.

"Hurry up, Sam. I don't know how much longer I can hold him," Dean tells him. Sam begins the exorcism while the co-pilot tries to push Dean off of him. The demon throws Dean off, slamming him into the wall. It throws Addison across the cabin, forcing her to drop the holy water. Sam doesn't stop reading as the demon pulls off the duct tape and grabs him.

"I know what happened to your girlfriend," the demon says. "She must have died screaming! Even now, she's burning!"

"Sam," Dean shouts, snapping Sam out of shock.

Sam continues the exorcism, then puts down the journal and helps Dean hold the demon down. "I got him!" The co-pilot starts screaming and kicks the journal down the aisle. He opens his mouth and black smoke comes out before the co-pilot lies still. "Where'd it go?"

"The plane," Addison shouts, leaning against the wall. "You have to finish it." Sam gets up and runs towards the front of the plane.

"You okay," Dean asks, making his way over to her just as the plane starts to nosedive. He's thrown up against her and Addison lets out a groan. He tries to push away from her, but slammed up against her again causing her to groan with pain. “Ads—"

"Not your fault." A bright light flashes through out the plane and the plane levels out. 

"Wanna join the mile high club," Dean asks, still pressed against her. Addison rolls her eyes and pushes him away.

* * *

Addison lets out a yawn and leans against Dean as they sit on the trunk of the Impala. After the plane had landed, they had tried to convince Sam that the demon was lying to avail. Jerry had talked to them, revealing that he had called Dean after calling John's cell.

"This doesn't make any sense, man. I've called Dad's number, like, fifty times. It's been out of service.” Sam tells him. Dean dials the number and puts on the speakerphone.

"This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean at 866-907-3232. He can help.” John's voice says. Dean snaps his phone shut. Without a word, Sam gets up and takes a seat in the Impala. Addison gives Dean's hand a supportive squeeze as they get into the Impala before driving away.


	5. Bloody Mary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

"Sam, wake up.” Addison says, shaking the younger Winchester out of the nightmare he was having. The Impala had been filled with the low levels of the AC/DC tape that had been playing and the soft voices of Addison and Dean, theorizing about what had happened with their new case. They were interrupted when Sam had started to whimper.

Sam shoots up and looks around the Impala, then lets out a breath. "I take it I was having a nightmare."

"Yeah, another one," Dean replies.

"Hey, at least I got some sleep."

Dean shoots him in a concerned look. "You know, sooner or later we're gonna have to talk about this."

"Where are we," Sam asks, making it obvious that he didn't want to talk about his nightmares.

"Lovely Toledo, Ohio," Addison answers, leaning forward on the seat as Dean pulls into a parking lot.

Sam picks up the newspaper with the obit that Dean had circled. "So, what do you think really happened to him?"

"That's what we're gonna find out. Let's go," Dean says, climbing out of the Impala. Addison and Sam follow and they walk into the morgue building. They enter a room where a single man was sitting behind a desk, wearing white scrubs.

"Hey," the technician greets.

"Hey."

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah. We're the, uh, med students."

"Sorry?"

"Oh Doctor Figlavitch didn't tell you? We talked to him on the phone. We, uh, we're from Ohio State. He's supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse. It's for our paper."

"Well I'm sorry, he's at lunch."

Addison smirks and leans forward, hands resting on the desk, giving the technician a view down the front of her tank top. "Well, you wouldn't mind showing us the body, would you," she asks, giving him a seductive smile. "This paper is half of our grade and I think by the time the doctor gets back, we have to be heading back to Columbus. So, think you could help us out?"

"Follow me," the technician replies and stands up from the desk.

"Way to go, Ads," Dean softly says and Addison gives him a smile.

"You two are unbelievable," Sam softly comments, shaking his head in disbelief as they follow the technician. They enter a room and are lead over to a body covered with a white sheet. "Now the newspaper said his daughter found him. She said his eyes were bleeding."

The technician pulls back the sheet and Addison raises an eyebrow seeing the empty eye sockets. "More than that. They practically liquefied."

"Any sign of a struggle? Maybe somebody did it to him," Dean asks.

The technician shakes his head. "Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone."

"What's the official cause of death," Addison asks him.

"Doc's not sure. Massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm? Something burst up in there, that's for sure."

"What do you mean," Sam asks.

"Intense cerebral bleeding. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen."

"The eyes — what would cause something like that?"

"Capillaries can burst. See a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims."

"Yeah? You ever see exploding eyeballs," Dean asks.

"That's a first for me, but hey, I'm not the doctor."

"You think we could look at the police report," Addison asks, giving him a smile. "For our paper."

Fifteen minutes later, they're walking down the stairs to exit the building. "Might not be one of ours. Might just be some freak medical thing," Sam comments.

"How many times in Dad's long and varied career has it actually been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death," Dean asks him.

"Never," Addison answers.

"Exactly."

"All right," Sam says, letting out a sigh. "Let's go talk to the daughter.”

* * *

They walk into the two-story suburban home filled with people dressed up in black. "Feel like we're underdressed," Dean comments and Addison shakes her head.

"That's cause we are," she softly replies as they walk through the house. The find a man who leads them to the backyard and points out the daughter they were looking for. As they walk over, Addison notices two other girls sitting with her.

"You must be Donna, right," Dean asks the older brunette girl.

"Yeah," Donna replies.

"Hi, uh, we're really sorry," Sam tells her.

"Thank you."

"I'm Sam, this is Dean and Addison. We worked with your Dad."

Donna looks between the three of them. "You did?"

"Yeah. This whole thing. I mean, a stroke," Dean says.

"I don't think she really wants to talk about this right now," another girl says, this one blonde and about the same age as Donna.

"It's okay. I'm okay," Donna tells her.

"Did you notice any symptoms? Maybe dizziness or migraines," Addison asks Donna.

"No."

"That's because it wasn't a stroke," a younger brunette girl comments.

"Lily, don't say that."

"What," Sam asks.

"I'm sorry, she's just upset," Donna explains.

"No, it happened because of me," Lily stresses.

"Sweetie, it didn't."

"Lily, what makes you think that," Addison softly asks her.

"Right before he died, I said it."

"Said what?"

"Bloody Mary. Three times in the bathroom mirror. She took his eyes, that's what she does."

"That's not why Dad died. This isn't your fault," Donna tells her.

"I think your sister's right, Lily. There's no way it could have been Bloody Mary. Your dad didn't say it, did he," Dean asks her.

"No, I don't think so," Lily replies.

The three of them make a quick exit and make their way into the house, easily find the bathroom. Addison wrinkles her nose at the slight of dried blood still on the floor. "The Bloody Mary legend — Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing," Sam asks.

"Not that I know of," Dean answers.

"What about Patrick?"

"Dude, if my dad thought for a second that Bloody Mary could be real, then he would've never let me play it when I was ten. Besides as far as I know is that no one has ever actually died from it," Addison tells them.

"Maybe everywhere it's just a story, but here it's actually happening," Dean counters.

"The place where the legend began," Sam asks and they shrug. "But according to the legend, the person who says—" Sam glances at the medicine cabinet mirror then closes it. "The person who says you know what, gets it. But here—“

"Shoemaker gets it instead, yeah."

"Right."

"Never heard anything like that before. Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror, and the daughter's right. The way the legend goes, you know who scratches your eyes out."

They hear footsteps near the room and they quickly exit the room to see the blonde from earlier walking towards them. "What are you doing up here," the blonde asks.

"We — we had to go to the bathroom," Dean answers.

The blonde crosses her arms over her chest. "Who are you?"

"Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's dad."

"He was a day trader or something, he worked by himself."

"No, I know, I meant—"

"And all those weird questions downstairs, what was that? So you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming."

"All right, all right. We think something happened to Donna's dad," Sam tells her.

"Yeah, a stroke."

Sam shakes his head. "That's not a sign of a typical stroke. We think it might be something else."

"Like what?"

"Uh, we really don't know yet," Addison answers. "But we don't want it to happen to someone else."

"So, if you're gonna scream, go right ahead," Dean says.

"Who are you, cops," the blonde asks them.

"Something like that."

"I'll tell you what. Here," Sam says and pulls out a piece of paper from his pocket. He quickly writes something on it. "If you think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary, just give us a call." Sam hands her the paper and the three of them quickly leave.

* * *

"Say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town. There's gonna be some sort of proof — like a local woman who died nasty," Dean comments as they walk towards the library.

"Yeah, but a legend this widespread it's hard. I mean, there's like fifty versions of who she actually is. One story says she's a witch, another says she's a mutilated bride, there's a lot more," Sam says and they enter the library.

"All right, so what are we supposed to be looking for?"

"The majority of every version that I've heard of is that it's always a woman named Mary and she's always kicked it in front of a mirror," Addison answers.

"So, we've gotta search local newspapers — public records as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary who fits the bill," Sam tells him.

"Well, that sounds annoying," Dean comments.

"No, it won't be so bad, as long as we..." Sam trails off as they reach the computer room and notices that all the computers have a sign that say 'Out of Order.' "I take it back. This will be very annoying."

"Nah, Ads will love it," Dean says and feels a slap on the back of his head.

"Yeah, well, so will you," Addison counters, smirking at him.

* * *

Dean and Addison are sitting at the table in the motel, searching through the pile of books. Sam lay on the bed, sleeping. He shoots up and they look at him, concerned. "Why'd you two let me fall asleep," Sam asks them.

"Cause we're awesome," Dean replies and Addison rolls her eyes. "So, what did you dream about?"

"Lollipops and candy canes."

Dean scoffs. "Yeah, sure."

"Did you find anything?"

"No. A couple of women named Laura and Catherine committed suicide in front of a mirror and a guy named Dave died when a giant mirror fell on him, but no one named Mary," Addison answers.

"Maybe we just haven't found it yet," Sam counters and falls back onto the bed.

"We haven't found any strange, unusual eyeball bleeding deaths in the area. I mean, maybe this isn't Mary."

Sam's cell rings and he grabs it from the nightstand. "Hello." A look of concerned comes over his face and he sits up. "Yeah. We'll meet you somewhere. That would be perfect." Sam hangs up his cell. "That girl from the funeral that found us searching the bathroom, Charlie, her friend just died. The same way Shoemaker did.”

* * *

The three of them met the blonde girl, Charlie, at a nearby park. Charlie was sitting on the bench, crying. Dean sat on the back and Addison sat next to Charlie, while Sam remained standing. "And they found her on the bathroom floor. And her — her eyes. They were gone," Charlie finishes explaining how her friend had died.

"I'm sorry," Sam replies.

"And she said it," Charlie says and the three of them exchange a look. "I heard her say it. But it couldn't be because of that. I'm insane, right?"

"You're not insane," Addison tells her.

Charlie buries her face in her hands. "Oh God, that makes me feel so much worse."

"Look. We think something's happening here. Something that can't be explained," Sam says.

"And we're gonna stop it, but we could use your help," Dean says and Charlie nods.

* * *

Addison rolls her eyes when she feels Dean's gaze on her. They were sitting outside of the window that led to the bedroom of Charlie's friend, Jill. "What," Addison softly asks.

"Black lace," Dean replies, with a smirk. Addison rolls her eyes, turning back around.

"Dude," Sam comments. The window opens and Sam crawls in. He turns and helps Addison in through the window, then Dean enters, carrying a duffle bag. "What did you tell Jill's mom?"

"Just that I needed some time alone with Jill's pictures and things," Charlie answers and Dean closes the window and blinds as Sam gets a video camera out of the duffle bag. "I hate lying to her."

"Trust us, this is for the greater good. Hit the lights," Dean replies.

Charlie turns off the lights. "What are you looking for?"

"Uh, we'll let you know when we find it," Addison tells her.

"Hey, night vision," Sam says, holding the camera out. Addison grabs it from him and turns on the night vision. "Perfect."

"Does Ads look like Paris Hilton," Dean amusingly asks and Sam walks over to the closet.

"So, I don't get it. I mean, the first victim didn't summon Mary and the second victim did. How's she choosing them?"

"No idea," Addison comments. Sam finishes filming the mirror hanging inside the closet and closes the door.

"I want to know why Jill said it in the first place," Dean states, looking at Charlie.

"It's just a joke," Charlie defends.

"Yeah, well, somebody's gonna say it again, it's just a matter of time."

"Hey," Sam says and they look to see that he's in the bathroom. "There's a black light in the trunk, right?" Dean nods and crawls out of the window. Five minutes later, he crawls back in as Sam takes off the mirror and sets it on the bed, glass face down. Sam tears off the brown paper and takes the black light from Dean. He turns it on and runs it over the back. The words 'Gary Bryman' light up, along with a handprint.

"Gary Bryman," Charlie asks.

"Do you know who that is," Addison asks.

"No," Charlie answers, shaking her head.

* * *

Addison and Sam walk over to where the bench that Dean and Charlie were sitting on. It was the same one that they had met Charlie at earlier that day. "So, Gary Bryman was an eight-year-old boy. Two years ago, he was killed in a hit and run. The car was described as a black Toyota Camry. But nobody got the plates or saw the driver," Sam explains.

"Oh my God," Charlie says.

"What?"

"Jill drove that car."

"We need to get back to your friend Donna's house," Dean says. Fifteen minutes later, the four of them are in the bathroom of Donna's house. Dean takes off the mirror and Sam runs the black light over the back. A handprint and the words 'Linda Shoemaker' light up. They go downstairs and find Donna just entering the house. "Was Linda Shoemaker your mother?"

"Why are you asking me this," Donna counters.

"Look, we're sorry, but it's important," Sam tells her.

"Yeah. Linda's my mom, okay? She overdosed on sleeping pills, it was an accident and that's it. I think you should leave."

"Now, Donna, just listen—" Dean starts.

"Get out of my house," Donna shouts and runs upstairs.

The slamming of a door echoes throughout the house. "Oh my God. Do you really think her dad could've killed her mom," Charlie asks them.

"It's a possibility," Addison answers.

"I think I should stick around."

"All right. Whatever you do, don’t--" Dean begins. 

"Believe me, I won't say it," Charlie replies and a silence falls over the four of them.

* * *

"Wait, wait, wait, you're doing a nationwide search," Sam disbelievingly asks. They were back in the motel room. Dean was sitting at the table, Sam's laptop in front of him while Addison sat on a bed, painting her toenails.

"Yep. The NCIC, the FBI database. At this point, any Mary who died in front of a mirror is good enough for me," Dean replies.

"But if she's haunting the town, she should have died in the town."

"I'm telling you there's nothing local, I've checked. So unless you got a better idea…"

Sam sighs. "The way Mary's choosing her victims, it seems like there's a pattern."

"I know, I was thinking the same thing."

"With Mr. Shoemaker and Jill's hit and run."

"They both had secrets where someone died," Addison comments. "And there's a ton of folklore about mirrors. Like how they reveal secrets, lies, reflection of your soul."

"Right, right. So, maybe if you have a secret, I mean like a really nasty one where someone died, then Mary sees it, and punishes you for it," Dean says.

"And she doesn't care who does the summoning."

"Take a look at this." Addison and Sam move to stand behind Dean. There was a picture of a woman, lying in a puddle of blood in front of a mirror on the laptop screen. Dean zooms in on the picture.

"Looks like the same handprint," Sam says.

"Her name was Mary Worthington. An unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana," Dean explains.

* * *

Dean, Addison, and Sam follow the detective into a smaller office. They had driven to Fort Wayne, Indiana and found the detective that worked on the case of Mary Worthington. "I was on the job for thirty-five years. Detective for most of that," the former detective explains. "Now everybody packs it in without a few loose ends, but the Mary Worthington murder — that one still gets me."

"What exactly happened," Dean asks.

"You three said you were reporters?"

"We know that Mary was nineteen and lived by herself," Addison counters. "We also know that she won a few local beauty pageants, dreamt of getting out of Indiana, of being an actress and we know that the night of March 29th, someone broke into her apartment and murdered her, then cut her eyes out with a knife."

"That's right."

"See, sir, when we asked you what happened, we wanted to know what you think happened," Sam finishes.

The former detective turns to a filling cabinet. He opens and takes out a file. "Technically, I'm not supposed to have a copy of this," he tells them. He opens the file and they see the picture Dean had found. The former detective points to three letters spelt out on the mirror in the picture. "Now, see that there? T-R-E?"

"Yeah," Dean replies.

"I think Mary was trying to spell out the name of her killer."

"You know who it was," Sam asks.

"Not for sure. But there was a local man, a surgeon, Trevor Sampson." The former detective pulls out a picture of a man. "And I think he cut her up good."

"Why would he do that," Addison asks.

"Her diary mentioned a man she was seeing. She called him by his initial, 'T'. Well, her last entry, she was gonna tell T's wife about their affair."

"Yeah, but how do you know it was Sampson who killed her," Dean asks.

"It's hard to say, but the way her eyes were cut out…it was almost professional."

"But you could never prove it?"

"No. No prints, no witnesses. He was meticulous."

"Is he still alive," Addison asks.

"Nope," the former detective answers and sits down. "If you ask me, Mary spent her last living moments trying to expose this guy's secret. But she never could."

"Where's she buried," Sam asks.

"She wasn't. She was cremated."

"What about that mirror," Dean asks, pointing to the mirror in the picture. "It's not in some evidence lockup somewhere is it?"

"Ah, no. It was returned to Mary's family a long time ago." 

"You have the names of her family by any chance," Sam asks and the former detective nods.

* * *

"Oh, really," Addison says into her cell phone. She was sitting in the backseat of the Impala, while Dean drove and Sam sat in the front passenger seat. "That's too bad, Mr. Worthington. I would've paid a lot for that mirror. Maybe next time. Thank you."

"So," Dean asks, after Addison hangs up her cell.

"That was Mary's brother. The mirror was in the family for years, then he sold it one week ago to Estate Antiques. A lovely store in Toledo."

"So, wherever the mirror goes, that's where Mary goes," Dean states.

"Well, her spirit is definitely involved with it in some way."

"Isn't there an old superstition that says mirrors can capture spirits?"

"Yeah, there is," Sam answers. "Yeah, when someone would die in a house, people would cover up the mirrors so that the ghost wouldn't get trapped."

"So, Mary dies in front of a mirror and it draws in her spirit."

"Then how is she able to move through lots of different mirrors," Addison asks.

"I don't know, but if the mirror is the source, I say we find it and smash it."

"Yeah, I don't know, maybe," Sam replies and his cell rings. "Hello? Charlie?”

* * *

The three of them are covering everything in the motel room that had a reflection. Charlie was sitting on the bed, hiding her face. They had driven back to Toledo as fast as they could and had picked up Charlie, then went to their motel room. Sam sits down next to Charlie. "Hey, hey, it's okay. Hey, you can open up your eyes, Charlie. Its okay, all right," Sam softly says and Charlie looks up. "Now listen. You're gonna stay right here on this bed, and you're not gonna look at glass or anything else that has a reflection, okay? And as long as you do that, she can't get you."

"But I can't keep that up forever. I'm gonna die, aren't I," Charlie asks them.

Sam places a comforting hand on her shoulder. "No. No. Not anytime soon."

"All right, Charlie. We need to know what happened," Dean says.

"We were in the bathroom. Donna said it."

"Something happened in your life, didn't it," Addison asks. "You have a secret where someone got hurt. Can you tell us about it?"

"I had this boyfriend. I loved him. But he kind of scared me too, you know? And one night, at his house, we got in this fight. Then I broke up with him, and he got upset, and he said he needed me and he loved me, and he said, 'Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I'm gonna kill myself.' And you know what I said? I said 'Go ahead.' And I left. How could I say that? How could I leave him like that? I just — I didn't believe him, you know. I should have," Charlie explains to them. She buries her face in her knees and lets out a sob.

* * *

The rain beats down on the Impala as it speeds down the road. A tense silence had settled over the three of them. "You know, her boyfriend killing himself, that's not really Charlie's fault," Dean comments, breaking the silence.

"Sprits don't really care about the details, Dean. She had a secret, someone died, and Mary thinks that's good enough," Addison replies.

"I guess."

"You know, I've been thinking. It might not be enough to just smash that mirror," Sam says.

"What do you mean," Addison asks.

"Well, Mary's hard to pin down, right? I mean, she moves around from mirror to mirror, so who's to say that she's not just gonna keep hiding in them forever? So, maybe we should try to pin her down, you know, summon her to her mirror and then smash it."

"How do you know that would work?"

"I don't. Not for sure."

"So, who would summon her?"

"I will. She'll come after me."

"You know what, that's it," Dean says and pulls the Impala to the side of the road. "This is about Jessica, isn't it? You think that's your dirty little secret that you killed her somehow? Sam, this has got to stop man. I mean, the nightmares and calling her name out in the middle of the night — it's gonna kill you. Now, listen to me — it wasn't your fault. If you wanna blame something, then blame the thing that killed her. Or hell, why don't you take a swing at me? I mean, I'm the one that dragged you away from her in the first place."

Sam shifts. "I don't blame you."

"Well, you shouldn't blame yourself, because there's nothing you could've done."

"I could've warned her."

"About what? You didn't know what was gonna happen! And besides, all of this isn't a secret, I mean, we know all about it. It's not gonna work with Mary anyway."

"No, you don't."

"We don't what," Addison softly asks, leaning on the seat.

"You don't know all about it. I haven't told you guys everything."

"What are you talking about," Dean demands.

"Well, it wouldn't really be a secret if I told you, would it?"

Dean stares at him, then shakes his head. "No. I don't like it. It's not gonna happen, forget it."

"Dean, that girl back there is going to die unless we do something about it. And you know what? Who knows how many people are gonna die after that? Now, we're going to do this. You've both got to let me do this," Sam says.

Silence settles over them. Addison wraps her arms around Sam's neck and gives him a light hug. "Well, we're going to be right there with you. And don't even try to talk us out of it.”

* * *

Addison and Dean keep look out as Sam picks the lock to the antique shop. They each were carrying a crowbar, hidden underneath their jackets. He unlocks the door and the three of them quietly enter. Addison lets out a groan, seeing the numerous mirrors hanging around. "We can't get the store with only one mirror," she says.

Dean shoots her an amused look and pulls out a picture of the mirror. "All right, let's start looking." They split up and start looking for the mirror. "Maybe they've already sold it."

"I don't think so," Sam replies.

Addison and Dean walk over to where Sam is pointing his flashlight at a mirror. Dean glances at the picture and sighs. "That's it. You sure about this?"

In response, Sam hands Dean the flashlight and pulls out his crowbar. Addison and Dean pull out their crowbars. Sam lets out a sigh. "Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary..." Sam glances at them. Addison gives him an encouraging nod, while Dean looks cautious. "Bloody Mary."

A light shines through the window and Dean groans. "I'll go check that out. You guys stay here, be careful. Smash anything that moves," he tells them and walks away.

Addison looks around the mirrors and doesn't see anything. Sam sees Mary in a mirror behind Addison. He pushes her out of the way and smashes the mirror. Addison sees Mary move to another mirror and quickly smashes it. "Well, she just needs to come in this one.” Addison says, looking into the original mirror.

Sam stares at his reflection in the mirror, something seemed different. Addison frowns seeing blood coming from her eye as she looks into her reflection. She looks to Sam and sees blood coming from his eye. "It's your fault. You killed her. You killed Jessica," Sam's reflection says as they both fall to the ground. Addison groans, trying to ignore the pain that was filling her. "You never told her the truth — who you really were. But it's more than that, isn't it? Those nightmares you've been having of Jessica dying, screaming, burning — you had them for days before she died. Didn't you! You were so desperate to ignore them, to believe they were just dreams. How could you ignore them like that? How could you leave her alone to die! You dreamt it would happen!"

"Its your fault. He's dead because of you.” Addison's reflection says. Dean comes in and smashes the mirror before her reflection can say more. Addison takes a deep breath.

Dean rushes over to them and kneels down. "Sam, Sammy.” he says, checking over Sam. Dean turns to Addison and she holds out her hand. He grasps it and pulls her into a sitting position. "Ads."

"I'm fine.” she answers.

"It's Sam.” Sam finally answers and they look at him.

"God, are you okay.” Dean asks.

"Uh, yeah."

"Come on.” Dean says. He helps Addison stand up then turns to Sam and helps him up. Addison leans against Dean as he helps Sam. They start to walk away. A crunching noise grabs their attention and they turn to see Mary crawling over glass. Mary stands up and starts walking towards them. They all fall to the ground, bleeding from their eyes. Dean grabs a mirror and holds it up to Mary.

"You killed them! All those people! You killed them.” Mary's reflection says. They watch as Mary chokes and explodes into a pile of blood.

Dean drops the mirror and it breaks. "Hey, Ads?” he asks.

“What?" Addison tiredly asks. 

"This has got to be like, what? Six hundred years of bad luck?" Instead of answering, Addison reaches over and lightly hits Dean on the chest.

* * *

The moment the shower starts in the bathroom, Addison turns to Sam. They had checked into a motel room in a different town after dropping Charlie off. Sam had told Charlie that it wasn't her fault, that she probably couldn't have stopped it anyway, and to forgive herself. Dean told Sam that it was good advice, silently hinting that he should take it. Addison gets up and sits next to Sam on his bed. "I really don't want to talk about it, Addison.” Sam says.

"Uh, I was going to tell that whenever you want to talk, you know I'm here. And I'm not gonna tell Dean what I heard. It's your secret. You'll tell him when you're ready.” Addison softly replies. She gets up and walks over to where her bags where.

“Thanks." Sam tells her and Addison gives him a soft smile. “Just…thanks.”


	6. Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

Addison walks over to where Dean was standing next to the gas pump, filling the Impala’s tank. She was carrying a paper bag filled with drinks and snacks for the drive to Bisbee, Arizona. Sam was sitting in the front seat, glued to his Palm Treo. “Sam wears women’s underwear.” Dean says as Addison reaches them.

“As long as it isn’t mine.” Addison comments and Dean laughs.

Sam shoots them both an unamused look. “I’ve been listening, I’m just busy.” he tells them, turning back to his Palm Treo.

“Busy doing what?” Dean asks as Addison climbs into the backseat.

“Reading e-mails.”

“Reading e-mails from who?”

“From my friends at Stanford.”

“You’re kidding. You still keep in touch with your college buddies?”

Sam glances at him. “Why not?”

“So, what do you tell them?” Addison asks, leaning forward.

“I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with my big brother. I tell ‘em I need some time off after Jess.”

“Oh, so you lie to ‘em.” Dean replies.

Sam shifts. “No. I just don’t tell ‘em everything.”

“Sam, that’s lying. But we get it. The truth is way worse.” Addison tells him.

“So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life.” Sam argues. Dean and Addison exchange a look. “You’re serious?”

“Look, it sucks but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period.” Dean says.

“You’re both kind of anti-social, you know that?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“God,” Sam says as Dean climbs in behind the wheel.

“What?” Addison asks.

“In this e-mail from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine.”

“Is she hot?” Dean asks.

“I went to school with her and her brother, Zack. She says Zack’s been charged with murder. He’s been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn’t do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case.”

“Dude, what kind of people are you hanging out with?”

Sam shakes his head. “No, I know Zack. He’s no killer.”

“Maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.” Addison says.

“They’re in St. Louis. We’re going.”

“Look, sorry about your buddy, okay? But this does not sound like our kind of problem,” Dean tells his younger brother.

“It is our problem. They’re my friends.”

“St. Louis is found hundred miles behind us, Sam,” Dean argues. The brothers exchange a look. Dean lets out a frustrated sigh and starts the Impala. They pull out of the gas station and drive down the road.

* * *

They pull up in front of a large two story house in a McMansion neighborhood. They climb out of the Impala as the front door opens. A tall, blonde woman opens the door and walks out of the house. “Oh my God, Sam,” the woman brightly greets, walking towards them.

“Well, if it isn’t little Becky,” Sam amusedly replies.

“You know what you can do with that little Becky crap,” Rebecca says and hugs Sam.

Sam pulls back and sadly smiles. “I got your e-mail.”

“I didn’t think that you would come here.”

Dean steps forward. “Dean. Older brother.”

“Addison, family friend,” Addison says.

“Hi,” Rebecca replies.

“Hi,” Dean and Addison reply.

“We’re here to help. Whatever we can do,” Sam says.

“Come in,” Rebecca says and leads them into the house. It was nicely decorated, organized, and clean. Addison and Dean exchange a look as they follow Rebecca and Sam into the kitchen.

“Nice place,” Dean comments.

“It’s my parents. I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I’m gonna stay until Zack’s free,” Rebecca explains.

“Where are your folks,” Sam questions.

“They live in Paris for half the year, so they’re on their way home now for the trail. Do you guys want a beer or something?”

Dean opens his mouth, but Sam cuts him off. “No, thanks. So, tell us what happened?”

“Well, um, Zack came home and he found Emily tied to a chair. And she was beaten up and bloody and she wasn’t breathing. So, he called 911. They showed up and arrested him. But, the thing is, the only way that Zack could’ve killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police, they have a video. It’s from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zack coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I swear, he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight.”

“You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack’s house.”

“We could,” Dean says.

Rebecca frowns. “Why? I mean, what could you do?”

“Well, me and Addison, not much. But Dean’s a cop,” Sam tells Rebecca.

Dean chuckles. “Detective, actually.”

“Really? Where,” Rebecca questions.

“Bisbee, Arizona. But I’m off duty, now.”

“You guys, it’s no nice to offer, but I just — I don’t know.”

“Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove he’s innocent,” Sam tells her.

Rebecca nods. “Okay. I’m gonna go get the keys.”

Addison looks at Sam as Rebecca walks out of the kitchen. “Yeah, Sam, you’re real honest with your friends.”

“Look, Zack and Becky need our help,” Sam counters.

“Well, no offense, I just don’t think this is really our kind of problem.”

“Two places at once? We’ve looked into less." 

Addison looks at Dean. He looks between his brother and his best friend. “A few hours and if we can’t find anything, then we leave,” Dean tells them.

* * *

The trio step into the bloody living room. The over turned furniture and walls were covered in it. Dean and Addison look around the apartment while Sam turns to see his old friend, nervously standing on the porch. “Bec, you wanna wait outside,” Sam asks.

“No, I wanna help,” Rebecca replies, ducking under the crime scene tape.

“Tell us what the police said.”

“Well, there’s no sign of a break in. They say that Emily let her attacker in. The lawyers — they’re already talking about a plea bargain.”

“Look, Bec, if Zack didn’t do this, it means someone else did. Any idea who?”

Rebecca shakes her head. A look of realization crosses her face. “Um, there was something, about a week before. Somebody broke in here and stole some clothes — Zack’s clothes. The police — they didn’t think it’s anything. I mean, we’re not that far from downtown. Sometimes people get robbed.” Silence settles over the trio as they look around. Addison walks over to a window that overlooked the small backyards. A doberman was uncontrollably barking. “You know, that used to be the sweetest dog.”

“What happened,” Addison asks.

“He just changed.”

“When?”

“I guess around the time of the murder.”

Addison nods, then makes her way over to the boys. A picture of Sam, Rebecca, and Zack was hanging on the fridge. “The neighbor’s dog turned Cujo around the time of the murder,” she quietly says.

“Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal.” Sam looks between Dean and Addison. “So, you guys think maybe this is our kind of problem?”

“No. Probably not,” Dean replies. “But we should look at the security tape, you know, just to make sure.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.” Dean turns to Rebecca. “So, the tape. The security footage — you think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it. Cause I just don’t have that kind of jurisdiction.”

“I’ve already got it,” Rebecca confesses. “I didn’t wanna say something in front of a cop. I stole it off the lawyer’s desk. I just had to see it for myself.”

* * *

That night, they’re sitting in Rebecca’s living room, watching the security tape. Addison was sitting in a plush arm chair while Dean sat on the arm while Sam and Rebecca were sitting on the couch. “Here he comes,” Rebecca says as a man walks across the screen and enters Zack’s apartment.

“22:04,” Dean reads. “That’s just after ten. You said time of death was about 10:30.”

“Our lawyers hired some kind of video expert. He says that the tape’s authentic. It wasn’t tampered with.”

“Hey, Bec, can we take those beers now,” Sam asks, not looking away from the TV.

“Oh, sure.”

Rebecca stands up and starts out of the room. “Hey,” Sam calls and she looks back. Sam tears his gaze from the screen. “Maybe some sandwiches, too?”

“What do you think this is, Hooters,” Rebecca counters, walking out of the room.

“I wish,” Dean mutters.

Addison smacks him in the stomach as Sam stands up and walks over to the TV. “Sam,” Addison asks, exchanging a look with Dean.

“Check this out,” Sam says. He rewinds the tape, then plays it. He pauses it when Zack looks directly at the camera. His eyes are brightly lit.

“Well, maybe it’s just a camera flare,” Dean says.

“That sure as hell isn’t like any camera flare I’ve ever seen,” Addison replies.

“You know, a lot cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul,” Sam says. “Remember that dog that was freaking out? Maybe he saw this thing. Maybe this is some kind of dark double of Zack’s, something that looks like him but isn’t him.”

“Like a doppleganger,” Dean reasons.

“Yeah. It’d sure explain how he was in two places at once.”

* * *

Addison yawns and pulls the hoodie she was wearing close as they climb out of the Impala. “All right, so, what are we doing here at 5:30 in the damn morning?” Dean asks as Addison leans against him

“I realized something. The videotape shows the killer going in, but not coming out,” Sam tells them.

“He used the back door,” Addison says.

“Right. So, there should be a trail to follow. A trail the police would never pursue.”

“Cause they think the killer never left. And they caught your friend Zack inside,” Dean says and Sam nods as he looks around. “I still don’t know what we’re doing here at 5:30 in the damn morning.”

“You and me both,” Addison mutters.

“Hey,” Sam calls and they join him by the telephone pole that had something on it. “Blood. Somebody came this way.”

“Yeah, but the trail ends,” Dean counters. “I don’t see anything over here.”

An ambulance speeds by and the three of them exchange a look. They follow the ambulance and arrive at a house a few blocks down. They watch as an Asian man is lead to the back of a police car. “What happened,” Addison asks one of the women watching the scene.

“He tried to kill his wife. Tied her up and beat her,” the woman answers.

“That’s horrible.”

“I used to see him going to work in the morning. He’d wave, say hello. He seemed like such a nice guy.”

* * *

Sam sighs as he puts the lid back on the garbage cans. He turns and sees Addison glued to her Blackberry. They were searching the area behind the latest victim’s home. “You know, you could help,” he says.

Addison shoves her phone into her hoodie pocket and smiles. “But then what would you do,” she amusedly asks.

Sam rolls his eyes and starts walking down the alley. “Hey.” He turns and sees Dean walking over to where Addison is standing. “Remember when I said this wasn’t our kind of problem," Dean begins as Sam joins them.

“Yeah,” Sam asks.

“Definitely our kind of problem.”

“What makes you say that,” Addison asks.

“Well, I just talked to the patrolman who was first on the scene, heard this guy, Alex’s story. Apparently, the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked.”

“So, he was at two places at once,” Sam says.

“Exactly. Then he sees himself in the house, police think he’s a nut job.”

“Two dark doubles attacking loved ones in exactly the same way.”

Dean nods. “Could be the same thing doing it too.”

“Shapeshifter,” Addison says and the boys look at her. “It’s something that can make itself look like anyone.”

“Every culture in the world has a shapeshifter lore. You know, legends of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men.”

“Right, skin walkers, werewolves,” Sam says.

“We’ve got two attacks within blocks of each other. I’m guessing we’ve got a shapeshifter prowling the neighborhood.”

“Let me ask you this — in all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?”

Dean and Addison exchange a look. “No, not that I remember,” Addison answers.

“I picked up a trail here. Someone ran out the back of this building and headed off this way.”

“Just like your friend’s house.”

“Yeah. And just like at Zack’s house, the trail suddenly ends. I mean, whatever it is just disappeared.”

“Well, there’s another way to go,” Dean says. He motions to the manhole. “Down.”

Addison nervously laughs and takes a step back. “You guys have fun. I’ll wait here,” she says and Dean smirks at her. Ten minutes later, Dean helps Addison step off the ladder that they had used to climb into the sewer. She gags as the smell hits her. “I hate you.”

“Suck it up.” Dean tells her, as he turns on a flashlight. He shines the flashlight around the sewer tunnel.

“I bet this runs right by Zack’s house too.” Sam says, looking down the tunnel. “The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around.”

“I think you’re right. Look at this.” Dean motions to the ground where a pile of flesh colored goo was and the boys kneel down to examine it.

“That’s gross.” Addison comments.

“Is this from his victims?” Sam asks.

“You know, I just had a sick though. When the shapeshifter changes shape — maybe it sheds.” Dean replies.

“That is sick.”

“Well, this has been a nice field trip and all, but I’m gonna head back to the top.” Addison tells them and starts climbing up the ladder. The brothers exchange a look and climb up the ladder.

Once back on the surface, they walk over to where Dean had parked the Impala. He opens the trunk and starts looking through the weapons. “Well, one thing, I learned from Dad, is that no matter what kind if shapeshifter it is, there’s one sure way to kill it.”

“Silver bullet to the heart.” Sam answers. His cell phone rings and he takes it out. “This is Sam. We’re near Zack’s, we’re just checking some things out. What are you talking about?” Dean and Addison exchange a look. “Why would you do that? Bec. Bec, I’m sorry, but—” Sam angrily hangs up and turns to the others.

Dean sighs. “I hate to say it, but that’s exactly what I’m talking about. You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you, they’d be freaked. It’s just — it’d be easier if—”

“If I was like you two.”

“Hey, man, like it or not, we are not like other people. But I’ll tell you one thing. This whole gig — it ain’t without perks.” Dean says, holding out a gun. Sam sighs and grabs the gun.

* * *

“I think we’re close to its lair.” Dean comments as the trio searches the sewers. They had been searching the sewers for the entire afternoon, trying to find the shapeshifter.

Addison tightens grip on her gun. “What makes you say that?”

Dean smirks. “Because there’s another puke inducing pile next to your face.”

Addison turns and stumbles into the wall seeing the skin on a pipe. She glares at Dean and he laughs. “Fuck you!” she snaps as Sam pushes past the two of them.

“Maybe later.” Dean replies, pushing Addison down the sewer. They catch up to where Sam is examining a pile of clothing. “Looks like it’s lived here for awhile.”

“Who knows how many murders he’s gotten away with.” Sam says, standing. He turns and sees the shapeshifter behind his brother. “Dean!” Dean and Addison turn around. A fist slams into Dean’s face and he stumbles into Addison. They fall to the ground as Sam shoots at the shifter, but misses. Dean pushes himself up as the shifter takes off. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Let’s go get the son of a bitch.” Dean replies and runs after the shifter. Sam helps Addison up and they run after Dean.

They follow the shifter up to the street and look around. There was no sign of the shifter. “All right, let’s split up.” Sam says.

“All right, we’ll meet around the other side.” 

They each walk off in a different direction. Addison shoves her gun in the back of her jeans and makes sure that the hoodie she was wearing hides it. After searching for half an hour, Addison reaches the meeting spot. She looks around, frowning when she doesn’t see Dean or Sam. “Seriously?!”

* * *

Sam lets out a groan. He slowly opens his eyes and finds that he’s in a dirty room of some kind. He tries to move his arms, but finds that he can’t. The last thing he remembered was learning that the shapeshifter had changed into Dean. The shapeshifter, still looking like Dean, appears in front of him and punches him. “Where are they?” he angrily demands. “Where’s Dean and Addison?”

“I wouldn’t worry about them.” the shapeshifter replies. “I’d worry about you.”

“Where are they?”

“You don’t really wanna know.” the shapeshifter coldly laughs. “I swear, the more I learn about you and your family — man and I thought I came from a bad background.”

“What you mean, learn?”

The shapeshifter winces and grabs his head. He closes eyes and moves his head around, while Sam watches, confused. He relaxes and looks at Sam. “He’s sure got issues with you. You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home. With Dad. You don’t think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you?”

Sam glares at the shapeshifter. “Where is my brother? Where’s Addison?”

“I am your brother. See, deep down, I’m just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life? Me? I know I’m a freak. And sooner or later, everybody’s gonna leave me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to and he ditched me too. No explanation, nothing, just poof. Left me with your sorry ass. And it’s only a matter of time before Addison decides to leave me. There are times when you can look at her and see that she’s thinking about leaving. I mean, I know I fucked up, but it’s only a matter before she changes her mind. Maybe I can convince her to stay.” the shapeshifter says. He grabs a nearby tarp and throws it over Sam.

* * *

“Damn it.” Sam says, pulling at the rope around his hands. After he heard the shapeshifter leave, he kicked off the tarp and started trying to undo the rope around his hands. Movement comes from the back of the room and someone coughs.

“That better be you, Sam, and not that freak of nature.” a familiar voice says.

Sam laughs. It was Dean. “Yeah, it’s me.” He looks over his shoulder to see Dean kick a tarp off of him. “He went after Addison, looking like you.”

“Fuck. Well, he’s not stupid. He picked the handsome one.” Dean replies and Sam rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, that’s the thing.” Sam says, still working on the rope around his hands. “He didn’t just look like you, he was you. Or he was becoming you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. It was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories.”

“You mean, like the Vulcan mind meld?”

Dean finally gets the rope off his hands and walks over to Sam. “Yeah. Something like that. I mean, maybe that’s why he doesn’t just kill us.”

“Maybe he needs to keep us alive. Psychic connection.” Dean says, pulling the ropes from around Sam’s hands.

Sam jumps up once the ropes are loose enough. “Yeah. Come on, we gotta go. He’s probably already found Addison.” A few minutes later, they climb out of a manhole and onto the street. “Come on. We gotta find a phone, call the police.”

Dean stops and stares at his brother. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. You’re gonna put an APB out on me.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s Ads, Sam!” Dean shakes his head. “No. We find my car, get some weapons, and go after the son of a bitch.”

“I know it’s Addison, Dean! But if we call the police, they can get there before the shapeshifter…” Sam trials off and shakes his head.

“Ads knows how to fight. If the shapeshifter went after her, it won’t take her long to figure it out. So, let’s find her first,” Dean argues. He starts walking down the street and angrily kicks a can. “The thought of him driving my car. I’m gonna beat the shit out of that fucker.”

* * *

Addison walks out of the bathroom, towel drying her hair. She had made her way back to the motel room, hoping that the boys were there. Only she hadn’t found them there. The door opens and she turns to see Dean walking in. “Did you guys finds the shifter?” she asks, throwing the towel into the bathroom.

“No. It was just too fast for me.” Dean replies. His gaze travels over her body as she bends over her duffle bag. Addison wore just a cami and a pair of black lace boy short panties.

Addison pulls her hair into a messy ponytail. “Where’s Sam?”

“Uh, said he was gonna go talk to his friend.” Dean walks up behind her and places his hands on her hips. His lips touch the back of her neck.

“What are you doing?”

Dean spins her around. “Something I’ve been wanting to do for a while.” he says before pulling her into a kiss.

Addison kisses him back for a moment, then pulls back. “No, no, no. We are not doing this.” He tightly grasps her wrists and shoves her against the wall. “Dean, let go.”

“Stop fighting, Ads.”

“Get off of me!” Addison pushes at Dean. He grabs her face and gives her a bruising kiss. He kisses down her neck and bites. “Dean, stop!”

“You know you want—”

“I said no!” Addison snaps, bringing her knee and hitting him in the groin. Dean groans and loosens his grip on her allowing her to shove him back. She runs to the door and starts to open it, but a hand slams it shut. He grabs her hair and slams her head against the door

* * *

Dean lets out a relived sigh seeing the Impala still parked down the street from the motel. “Oh, there she is!” he exclaims. “Finally something went right tonight.” He walks over to the trunk and pops it up. He takes out two guns and hands one to Sam. “All right. Let’s go kick that bastard’s ass.”

“You know the moment we start shooting, someone’s gonna call the cops.” Sam says as they walk towards the motel.”

Dean pauses. “Let’s deal with that after we kill the shifter.”

* * *

Addison winces as the world around her seems to spin. She places her feet on the door and pushes back. Startled, the shifter releases his grip on her. Addison spins around and slams a fist into his face. She darts to her duffel bag, but he tackles her to the ground. She reaches up and pulls her bag off the dresser. The shifter grabs her right arm and yanks it back. “I love it when they scream.” the shifter says when Addison lets out a pain filled shout.

Addison digs through her duffel and grasps the gun that Dean had given her earlier. “Let me go, you son of a bitch!” she angrily says.

The shifter flips her over and Addison aims her gun at his heart. “You’re not going to shoot me, Ads.”

Addison pulls the trigger as the door bursts open. The shifter slumps against her and she scrambles to get out from underneath the body. A hand grasps her arm and pulls her up. “Oh, thank God.” Addison says, seeing Dean. She wraps her uninjured arm around him and buries her face in his chest.

Dean places a protective hand on the back of her head. “Are you okay?”

“Other than my shoulder and the forthcoming headache, I’m okay." 

Sirens near the motel room. “Guys.” Sam says. Dean presses a quick kiss to Addison’s forehead, then runs out of the room. Sam places a comforting hand on Addison’s shoulder and she leans against him.

* * *

Addison lets out a sigh and lays down on the bed, closing her eyes. Her right arm was in a sling since the shifter had dislocated her shoulder. Bruises on her arms and face had appeared. Sam had stayed with her at the motel and they had lied to the cops about what had happened. The cops had blamed Dean for all the attacks that the shifter had done. And before they left St. Louis, Sam had told Rebecca the truth about what had happened. Though Addison doubted Sam’s friend had believed him. The bed dips and Addison looks to see Dean laying next to her. She curls up against him. “How’d it feel to miss your own funeral?” she asks.

“Disappointing. All those chicks crying over me.” Dean replies, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“Really? I thought it’d be sad when it turns out that only Sam and I showed up.” Addison amusedly says. “Did you bring me some chili cheese fries?”

Dean presses his lips to the side of her head and inhales the apple scented shampoo she always used. “Like I’d ever forget the chili cheese fries.”


	7. Hookman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, but I own the original characters.

Addison takes a sip of her coffee. Dean sat next to her, working on her laptop. They were sitting in a small outdoor café. A cup of coffee sat next to Dean and a third sat in the center of the table. Sam walks over to them and Dean smirks. "Your, uh, half-caf, double vanilla latte is getting cold over here, Francis.” Dean says and Addison rolls her eyes.

"Bite me," Sam retorts and sits down.

"Did you find anything?” Addison asks.

Sam shakes his head. "I had them check the FBI's Missing Persons Data Bank. No John Doe's fitting Dad's description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations."

"Sam, I'm telling ya, I don't think Dad wants to be found," Dean says and a disappointed look crosses Sam's face. "Check this out." Dean turns Addison's computer to him. "It's a news item out of Planes Courier. Ankeny, Iowa. It's only about a hundred miles from here."

"'The mutilated body was found near the victim's car, parked on Nine Mile Road,'" Sam reads and looks at them.

"Keep reading," Addison tells him.

"'Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacked was invisible.'"

"Could be something interesting," Dean comments.

"Or it could be nothing at all. One freaked out witness who didn't see anything? Doesn't mean it's the Invisible Man."

"But what if it is? Dad would check it out," Dean reasons. Sam lets out a sigh, knowing that his older brother was right.

* * *

The Impala pulls to a stop in front a two-story house. They step out and Addison groans. A sign with Greek letters sat in the middle of the yard. Frat brothers stood around, some were working on a car while most were just hanging out and drinking beer. "One more time, why are we here," Sam asks.

"Victim lived here," Dean answers and turns to Addison. He looks over the plaid buttoned up shirt and jeans she was wearing.

"What," Addison asks. Dean reaches over and undoes top buttons of her shirt. Addison rolls her eyes. "Are you serious?" Dean grins and heads towards the frat house. "Sometimes I hate your brother, Sam."

Sam laughs and they follow Dean. "Nice wheels," Dean says to the guys working on the car. Dean throws his arm around Addison's shoulders and pulls her close. He motions to Sam. "We're your fraternity brothers. From Ohio. We're new in town. Transfers. Looking for a place to stay."

"Murph has some space in his room," one of the guys said. "Second floor, look for the purple guy."

"Thanks."

The three of them enter the house. Dean's arm falls from Addison's shoulders and settles around her waist. As they walk up the stairs, his hand falls lower. "Get your hand off my ass, Dean," Addison hisses. "Or I will do something to your car."

Dean quickly removes his hand as they reach the second floor. They easily find Murph, who was standing in his room and painting himself purple. Dean knocks on the door and Murph looks at them. "Who are you?"

"We're your new roommates," Dean replies, walking into the room.

Murph holds out a paintbrush and can. "Do me a favor? Get my back. Big game today."

Dean motions to Sam. "He's the artist. Things he can do with a brush." Sam reluctantly takes the brush and can from Murph. Dean plops down in an armchair. He grabs Addison by the back of her jeans and yanks her into his lap. Addison tensely smiles as Dean looks at a magazine. "So, Murph. Is it true?"

"What?"

"We heard one of the guys around here got killed last week."

"Yeah."

"What happened," Addison asks.

"They're saying some psycho with a knife. Maybe a drifter passing through. Rich was a good guy."

"Rich, was he with somebody," Sam asks.

"Not just somebody. Lori Sorensen."

"Who's Lori Sorensen," Dean asks. He looks at Sam and points to a spot of Murph's back. "You missed a spot. Just down there. On the back." Sam glares at Dean, but continues painting.

"Lori's a freshman. She's a local. Super hot," Murph replies. "And get this: she's a reverend's daughter."

"You wouldn't happen to know which church, would ya," Dean asks, grinning.

* * *

They walk out of the church with the crowd. They had arrived in the middle of the sermon, causing everyone to look at them. Addison had to elbow Dean when everyone prayed so they wouldn't stand out further. Of course, neither Dean nor Addison had missed the look that a girl sitting in the front of the church had sent Sam. "There," Sam says, motioning to where a brunette girl was standing. They walk over to her. "Are you Lori?"

"Yeah," Lori replies, giving them a soft smile.

"My name is Sam. This is my brother, Dean and our friend, Addison," Sam says.

Dean waves and Addison smiles. "Hi," Addison says.

"We just transferred here to the university," Sam lies.

"I saw you inside," Lori replies.

"We don't wanna brother you. We just heard about what happened and…"

"We wanted to say how sorry we were," Dean finishes.

"I know of know what you're going through. I — I saw someone get hurt once. It's something you don't forget," Sam says and Lori nods.

Reverend Sorensen walks over to them. "Dad, um, this is Sam, Dean, and Addison. They're new students," Lori says.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," Dean replies, shaking the older man's hand. "I must say, that was an inspiring sermon."

"Thank you very much. It's so nice to find young people who are open to the Lord's message."

"We're new in town," Addison says, guiding Reverend Sorensen away from Sam and Lori. She grabs Dean's arm and pulls him with her. "You wouldn't happen know a good church group, would you?”

* * *

The three of them sat at a table with books spread around them. Addison wrinkles her nose and closes the book. She lets out a sigh and lays her head on the book. "Do you believe her," Addison asks Sam.

"I do," Sam replies, not looking up from the book he was reading.

"Yeah, I think she's hot, too," Dean comments and Addison rolls her eyes.

"No, man, there's something in her eyes. And listen to this: she heard scratching on the roof. Found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car."

Addison sits up. "That sounds like—"

"The Hookman legend," Sam interrupts.

"That's one of the most famous urban legends ever," Dean says. "You don't think that we're dealing with the Hookman."

"Every urban legend has a source. A place where it all began."

"Except the phantom scratches, tire punctures, and the invisible killer," Addison says.

"Well, maybe the Hookman isn't a man at all. What if it's some kind of spirit," Sam asks.

Addison stands up. "I'll be back," she tells them and walks away. Ten minutes later, she places a dust covered box on the table. "The librarian helped me find this. Arrest records going back all the way back to 1851."

Dean blows dust off the box and coughs. "So, this is how you guys spent four good years of your life?"

"It's called higher education, Dean."

Hours later, they're still sitting at the table. Each had a book in front of him. "Hey, check this out," Sam says. Addison and Dean look at him. "1862. A preacher named Jacob Karns was arrested for murder. Looks like he was so angry over the red light district in town that one night he killed thirteen prostitutes. Uh, right here, 'Some of the deceased were found in their bed, sheets soaked with blood. Others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees as a warning against sins of the flesh.'"

"Get this, the murder weapon? Looks like the preacher lost his hand in an accident. Had it replaced with a silver hook," Dean says, reading a different page in the book.

"Look where all this happened."

"Nine mile road."

"That's the same place where the frat boy was killed," Addison says.

"Nice job, Dr. Venkman," Dean tells Sam and stands up. "Let's check it out." Sam and Addison gather up the research and quickly follow after him.

* * *

Night had fallen by the time they pull up to Nine Mile Road. They climb out of the Impala and walk around to the trunk. Dean opens it and hands Sam a shotgun. "Here you go."

"If it is a spirit, buckshot won't do much good," Sam counters.

"Yeah, rock salt," Dean says, grabbing some shotgun shells and handing them to Sam.

"Huh. Salt being a spirit deterrent."

"It doesn't kill them, but it slows them down," Addison comments. Dean takes out some rope and slams the trunk shut.

"That's pretty good, Addison."

"I didn't think of it."

"I told you. You don't have to be a college graduate to be a genius," Dean says and they start walking. Noises come from behind the trees and they stop. "Over there."

Sam cocks the gun and aims it at the trees. A Sheriff comes out from behind the threes. "Put the gun down now! Now! Put your hands behind your head."

"W-w-wait," Dean quickly says and Sam quickly lowers the gun. "Okay, okay!"

"Now get down on your knees. Come on, do it! On your knees," the Sheriff orders and they kneel down. "Now get down on your bellies. Come on, do it!"

"He had the gun," Dean mutters as they lay down on the ground. He feels a gaze on him and turns to see Addison glaring at him. He gives her a weak smile as the Sheriff handcuffs them.

* * *

"Saved your ass," Dean exclaims as they walk out of the Sheriff's office the next morning. Addison rolls her eyes, annoyed at him. "Talked the sheriff down to a fine. Dude, I am Matlock."

"But how," Sam asks.

"Dean said that you were a dumbass pledge and that he was hazing you while I was there to make sure you didn't actually get hurt," Addison explains and whacks Dean's stomach. "That's for causing me to spend the night in jail. Those hookers in the ladies cell kept staring at me and I didn't like it."

"So, what'd you say about the shotgun," Sam asks.

"I said that you were hunting ghosts and the spirits were repelled by rock salt," Dean answers. "You know, typical Hell Week prank."

"And he believed you?"

"Well, you look like a dumbass pledge," Dean counters. Sheriffs suddenly run out of the building and drive off in their cars. The three of them exchange a look and pick up the pace to where the Impala was parked.

* * *

They park down the street from the sorority house. They walk up to the back of the house. "Why would the Hookman come here," Sam asks. "This is a long way from Nine Mile Road."

"Maybe he's not haunting the scene of his crime. Maybe it's about something else," Dean replies. They press up against the house when they see a couple of girls come out. Sam taps Addison's shoulder and she turns to see him crawl up onto the house. "Dude, sorority girls! Think we'll see a naked pillow fight?"

"Dean," Addison snaps. He turns to see Sam crawling onto the balcony. "Give me a hand." Dean interlaces his fingers and Addison places her foot in his hands. He lifts up and Sam grabs her hand. Dean smirks as Addison pulls herself onto the balcony. He reaches up and slaps Addison ass. She turns and glares at him causing he to grin.

Sam finds a room with a window and opens it. He and Addison wait for Dean to join them before climbing in through the window. Addison goes first, then Sam, and Dean, who falls on top of Sam. "Oh, sorry," Dean says.

"Be quiet," Sam hisses.

"You be quiet!"

"How about both of you shut the hell up," Addison interrupts, glaring at both of them. She quietly opens the door and looks to see a sheriff walks out of the room, closing the door behind him. She opens it and they walk into the room. On the wall, written in blood, are the words 'Aren't you glad you didn't turn on the light?' "That's right out of the legend."

"Yeah, that's classic Hookman all right," Dean says and taps his nose. "It's definitely a spirit."

"Yeah, I've never smelled ozone this strong before," Sam comments.

Addison cocks her head to the side and stares at drawing underneath the words. "I've seen that before.”

* * *

Addison sifts through the copies of the records she had made when they were at the library. She pulls out a piece of paper and shows it to the brothers. "Same symbol," she says. "Our ghost is the spirit of Jacob Karns."

"All right, let's find the dude's grave, salt, burn the bones, and put him down," Dean replies.

"After execution, Jacob Karns was laid to rest in an Old North Cemetery," Sam reads from the paper. "In an unmarked grave."

"Great," Addison says.

"Okay. So, we know its Jacob Karns. But we still don't know where he'll manifest next. Or why."

"I'll take a wild guess about why. I think your little friend Lori has something to do with this," Dean says and they climb into the Impala. "See if you can find out.”

* * *

Music blares around the house. Addison gives the frat guy, who was supposedly teaching her to play pool, a smile. "And I just hit the ball," she innocently asks.

"Yeah," the frat guy replies, moving his hand to her ass.

Addison pulls back the pool stick and starts to hit the ball. "Hey." She slips and completely misses the ball. She looks up and sees Dean and Sam.

Addison glares at them, then turns to the frat guy. "Excuse me, I have to go deal with my annoying brothers," she apologizes and walks over to them. "Right now, I hate both of you."

Sam unrolls a piece of paper and they look at it. "So, it was bugging me, right? How is the Hookman tied up with Lori? So, I think I came up with something."

"1932. Clergyman arrested for murder. 1967. Seminarian held in hippie rampage," Dean reads.

"There's a pattern here. In both cases, the suspect was a man of religion who openly preached against immorality. And then found himself wanted for killings he claimed were the work of an invisible force. Killings carried out, get this, with a sharp instrument."

"What's the connection to Lori?"

"A man religion? Who openly preaches against immorality? Except maybe this time, instead of saving the whole town, he's just trying to save his only daughter."

"You think Reverend Sorensen is summoning the spirit," Addison questions.

"Maybe. Or, you know how a poltergeist can haunt a person instead of a place?"

"So, the spirit latches onto the Reverend's repressed emotions and feeds off them."

"Without the reverend even knowing."

"Either way, you should keep an eye on Lori tonight," Dean says and Sam nods.

"What about you two?"

"We're gonna go see if we can find that unmarked grave," Dean replies.

"How about you go alone and I stay here," Addison counters. 

"Nope. If I can't stay, then you can't stay," Dean tells her, smiling at a blonde across the room. Addison shakes her head in disbelief.

* * *

Addison and Dean walk through the cemetery. They scan the area looking for any clue to where the grave was. “Hey.” Dean says and Addison looks at him. "Here we go." He motions to the tombstone with the cross from the wall on it. Dean drops the bag of supplies on the ground and starts going through it. He looks up when Addison doesn't do anything. "Addison."

Addison gives Dean a smile and walks over to him. "I think you—"

Dean shoves a shovel at her. "Start digging."

"I'll blow you."

Dean stares at her, contemplating her offer. He shakes his head. "No. Start digging." Addison rolls her eyes and reluctantly starts digging with him. Half an hour later, they hit the coffin. "That's it. Next time, I get to watch the cute girl's house."

"Next time, I'm not digging."

"Ads, shut up.” Dean says. He breaks the wooden coffin and they see a skeleton. "Hello, preacher."

"Shut up.” Addison mutters, climbing out of the grave. She searches through bag and pulls out a container of salt and lighter fluid.

Dean climbs out of the grave and Addison pours the salt and lighter fluid on the bones. He lights a match. "Goodbye, preacher." He throws it in the grave and the remains burst into flames. "You've never had a problem with digging a grave before, Ads. What's change? Is it cause we're alone?"

"What? No! Dean, we've been alone before. Nothing has changed. It's just…"

"Just what?"

"I can't say it without hurting your feelings."

"Ads, you're not—"

"That frat guy was really hot and you totally cock blocked me.” Addison blurts and Dean stares at her. "See. I hurt your feelings."

"Ads, you didn't hurt my feelings. We both agreed that we were benefits only. And hey, I rather be hooking up with a hot chick than digging up a grave and salting and burning the bones."

Addison nods in agreement. ”Next time, Sam is digging up the grave, by himself.”

* * *

"No, it's alright, we're with him. He's our brother.” Dean tells the Sheriff, who was blocking his and Addison from walking down the hospital hallway. Sam stood down the hallway, talking to another Sheriff. "Hey! Brother!" Dean waves his arm at Sam.

"Let them through.” the other sheriff says and the one in front of them moves.

Addison and Dean walk towards Sam, who meets them halfway. "Are you okay?” she asks.

“Yeah." Sam answers.

"What the hell happened?” Dean asks.

"Hookman."

"Wait, you saw him?” Addison asks.

"Damn right. Why didn't you guys torch the bones?"

"What are you talking about, we did.” Dean counters. "You sure it's the spirit of Jacob Karns?"

"It sure as hell looked like him. And that's not all. I don't think the spirit is latching on to the reverend."

"Well, I doubt he would send the Hookman after himself.” Addison comments.

"I think it's latching onto Lori. Last night, she found out her father is having an affair with a married woman."

"So what.” Dean says.

Sam rolls his eyes. "So, she's upset about it. She's upset about the immorality of it. She told me she was raised to believe that if you do something wrong, you get punished."

"Maybe Karns is latching onto her repress emotions and doing the punishing for her.” Addison says.

"Right. Rich comes on too strong, Taylor tries to make her into a party girl, Dad has an affair."

"Remind me not to piss this girl off.” Dean comments. "But we burned those bones, we buried them in salt why didn't that stop him?"

"You must have missed something."

"No. We burned everything in that coffin."

"Did you get the hook?"

“Hook?" Addison asks, exchanging a confused look with Dean.

"Well, it was the murder weapon, and in a way, it was part of him."

"So, like the bones, the hook is a source of his power.” Dean reasons.

"So, if we find the hook…"

"We stop the Hookman.” they all say at the same time and smile.

* * *

They're back in the library, sitting at the same table, and going through more books. "Check this out," Addison says, breaking the silence. "The Iowa State Penitentiary log book. 'Karns, Jacob. Personal affects: disposition thereof.'"

"Does it mention the hook," Sam impatiently asks.

Addison glares at him. "If you'd just give me a moment. 'Upon execution, all earthly items to be remanded to the prisoner's house of worship, St. Barnabas Church.'"

"Isn't that where Lori's father preaches?"

"Yep."

"Where Lori lives?"

"Maybe that's why the Hookman has been haunting reverends and reverends' daughters for the past 200 years," Dean comments.

"Yeah, but if the hook were at the church or Lori's house, don't you think someone might've seen it," Sam asks. "I mean, a bloodstained, silver-handled hook?"

"We have to check the church records," Addison says.

Ten minutes later, they've found another book. Sam was searching through it. "'St. Barnabas donations, 1862. Received silver-handled hook from state penitentiary. Re-forged,'" he reads and lets out a sigh. "They melted it down. Made it into something else.”

* * *

Dean parks the Impala in front of the church and they all pile out. They look between the house and the church. “All right, we can't take any chances. Anything silver goes in the fire," Dean says.

"I agree," Sam replies. "So, Lori's still at the hospital. We'll have to break in."

“All right, take you pick."

"I'll take the house."

"Okay. Ads, you're with me." Sam nods and starts to walk towards the house. "Hey." Sam turns back to them. "Stay out of her underwear drawer."

Sam shakes his head and walks away. "Sometimes, Dean, you are unbelievably," Addison comments as she and Dean walk towards the church. Dean laughs and slaps Addison's ass. "And stop grabbing my ass."

"Come on, let's get to work," Dean replies. They enter the church and split up. Addison grabs anything that looked silver to her. She meets back up with Dean, arms filled with objects. Dean held a bag filled with objects. "There's a furnace in the basement. Come on." Addison rolls her eyes but follows Dean to the basement. She drops everything on the floor with a loud thud. Dean stares at her.

Addison shrugs. "What? It was heavy."

Dean opens the little door to the furnace and starts throwing stuff in. Footsteps sound and they look up to see Sam walking down the stairs, carrying a large bag of stuff. "I got everything that even looked silver."

"Better safe than sorry," Dean replies. More footsteps come from above them. Dean pulls out his gun. "Move, move." The three of them walk upstairs and see Lori sitting in a pew. Addison and Dean walk back downstairs.

Addison starts throwing more stuff into the furnace. She looks up to see Dean standing at the bottom of the stairs. "Dean, seriously, I'm not doing this—"

"Stay here and keep throwing stuff in the fire," Dean interrupts and walks back up stairs. Numerous footsteps echo above her.

"Come on," Addison mutters. A gunshot goes off. She grabs handfuls of silver objects and tosses it into the fire. "Please, do not come after me."

"Addison," Dean shouts, running down the stairs. She turns and he throws a necklace at her. Quickly, Addison tosses it into the fire. Watching it melt, she lets out relieved sigh. "Come on!" Addison follows him up the stairs and to a side room. She sees Sam and Lori huddled against the wall.

* * *

Morning had come, along with the local sheriffs and an ambulance. Dean and Addison stood talking to a sheriff. "And you both saw him, too? The man with the hook," the Sheriff disbelievingly asks.

"Yes, we told you, we all saw him. We fought him off and then he ran," Dean replies.

"And that's all?"

"Yeah, that's all," Addison answers.

"Listen, you two and your brother—"

"Oh, don't worry, we're leaving town," Dean interrupts and walks over to the Impala.

Addison gives the Sheriff a tense smile and walks over to the Impala. She climbs into the backseat. "Dean, stop spying," she says.

"I'm not spying."

"Uh huh. That's what you say when you watch Oprah."

The passenger door opens and Sam climbs in. His arm was wrapped in a bandage. Dean and Addison exchange a look. "We could stay," Dean tells him. Sam shakes his head. Dean starts the Impala and drives away. Addison leans up and pats Sam's shoulder. 


	8. Bugs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Supernatural. But I do, however, own the original characters.

Dean laughs as he and Addison walk out of the bar. They see Sam lying on the hood of the Impala reading a newspaper. Dean throws his arm over Addison's shoulder as they walks over to him. He waves a wad of cash in the air. "You know, we could get day jobs once in a while.” Sam comments.

"Well, the pay for our job sucks.” Addison counters.

"Yeah, but hustling pool? Credit card scams? It's not the most honest thing in the world."

"Well, let's see honest.” Dean replies, holding out a hand. "Fun and easy." He hold out his other hand and mimics as if he's weighing something. "It's no contest. Besides, we're good at it. It's what we were raised to do."

Sam shakes his head. "Yeah, well, how we were raised was jacked."

"Yeah, says you. We got a new gig or what?"

"Maybe. Oasis Plains, Oklahoma — not far from here. A gas company employee, Dustin Burwash, supposedly died from Creutzfeldt-Jakob."

"Mad cow disease?” Addison asks.

"Mad cow. Wasn't that on Oprah?” Dean asks.

"You watch Oprah.” Sam counters.

"Ads does." Addison glares at him. Dean clears his throat. "So, this guy eats a bad burger. Why is it our kind of thing?"

"Mad cow disease causes massive brain degeneration. It takes months, even years, for the damage to appear. But this guy, Dustin? Sounds like his brain disintegrated in about an hour. Maybe less."

"Okay, that's strange.” Addison comments.

"Yeah. Now, it could be a disease. Or it could be something much nastier."

"All right. Oklahoma.” Dean replies and they all climb into the Impala. "Man. Work, work, work. No time to spend my money."

"Excuse me.” Addison says as Dean starts the Impala. They drive away from the bar. "I earn all the money. So, technically, it's mine."

"Ads, I could beat those guys in my sleep. All you do is give them a flash of the goods and they lose."

"I bet that I could beat you at pool, Dean. And Sam can be the ref."

"Oh, you're so on, Addison," Dean replies and presses down harder on the gas.

* * *

They get out of the Impala and walk over to where a man, wearing a uniform, was standing next to a Oklahoma Gas & Power Company truck. "Travis Weaver," Sam asks.

"Yeah, that's right," Travis replies, wearily looking at them.

"Are you the Travis who worked with Uncle Dusty," Dean asks.

"Dustin never mentioned nephews or a niece."

"That's so weird. Uncle Dusty totally mentioned you; said you were the greatest," Addison says, giving Travis a bright smile.

"Yeah," Sam adds.

"Oh, he did," Travis asks them. "Huh."

"Listen, we wanted to ask you, what exactly happened out there," Dean asks.

"I'm not sure. He fell in a sinkhole, I went to the truck to get some rope, and, uh, by the time I got back…”

"What did you see?"

"Nothing. Just Dustin."

"No wounds or anything," Sam asks.

"Well, he was bleeding from his eyes and his ears, his nose. But that's it."

"Do you really think it was that mad cow thing," Addison asks.

"I don't know. That's what the doctors are saying."

"But if it was, he would've acted strange beforehand, like dementia, loss of motor control," Sam says. "You ever notice anything like that?"

"No. No way. But then again, if it wasn't some disease, what the hell was it?"

"That's a good question," Dean replies.

"You know, can you tell us where this happened," Sam asks.

"Yeah," Travis answers and proceeds to give them directions.

* * *

Addison follows Dean and Sam over to where the sinkhole was. They were on the outskirts of a housing complex that was being built. Police tape surrounds the hole. "Huh. What do you think," Dean asks as they duck under the tape.

"I don't know. But if that guy, Travis, was right, it happened pretty damn fast," Sam replies.

"So, what? Some sort of creature chewed on his brain?"

"There would be a wound if that happened," Addison counters. "Seems like it worked from the inside."

"Huh," Dean says and looks down the hole. "Looks like there's only room for one."

"There's no way in hell I'm going down there."

Dean looks at Sam. "You wanna flip a coin?"

"Dean, we have no idea what's down there," Sam says.

Dean shrugs and grabs a garden hose that was sitting on the ground. "All right, I'll go if you're scared. You scared?”

"Flip the damn coin."

Dean laughs and takes out a coin. "All right, call it in the air. Chicken."

Addison rolls her eyes. Dean flips the coin and Sam snatches it out of the air. "I'm going."

"I said I'd go."

"All right."

Sam ties the hose around his waist. Dean tightly holds the other end. Sam stands over the hole. "Don't drop me.”

* * *

Dean is driving the Impala through the neighborhood. Sam sat in the front seat, examining a beetle that he had found. Addison sat behind Dean, giving the beetle a distrusting look. "You found some bugs in the ground, Sam. I'm shocked," Addison comments.

"There were no tunnels, no tracks. No evidence of any other kind of creature down there. You know, some beetles do eat meat. Now, it's usually dead meat, but—" Sam explains.

"How many did you find down there," Dean interrupts.

"Ten."

"It'd take a whole lot more than that to eat out some dude's brain."

"Well, maybe there were more."

"Uh huh and I'm the president," Addison says.

"Well, we need more information on the area, the neighborhood. Whether something like this has ever happened before," Sam comments. Dean sees a sign and turns the Impala. "What?"

"I know a good place to start," Dean answers. They pass another sign, this one reading 'Models Open. New Buyers' BBQ Today!' "I'm kinda hungry for a little barbecue, how about you?" Sam stares at him in disbelief. "What? We can't talk to the locals?"

"And the free food's got nothing to do with it?"

"Of course not. I'm a professional."

"Right."

Dean pulls over and parks the Impala. They all climb out and start walking towards the house. "Growing up in a place like this would freak me out."

"Why?"

"Well, manicured lawns, 'how was your day, honey?' I'd blow my brains out."

"Like Mary Alice on Wisteria Lane," Addison comments and Dean nods.

"You both know there's nothing wrong with 'normal', right," Sam asks.

"I'd take our families over normal any day," Dean replies as they walk up to the front door.

Dean knocks on the door. A middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair opens the door. "Welcome."

"This the barbecue," Dean asks.

"Yeah, not the best weather, but I'm Larry Pike, the developer here. And you are…" Larry trails off.

"Dean. This is Sam and Addison."

Larry shakes each of their hands. "Sam, Dean, Addison, good to meet you. So, you're interested in Oasis Plains?"

"Yes, sir," Dean answers as Larry leads them through the nicely decorated two-story house.

"Let me just say — we accept homeowners of any race, religion, color, or sexual orientation."

"We're brothers," Dean corrects, throwing an arm over Addison's shoulder and pulling her to his side. An embarrassed look appears on Larry's face. "Me and Addison are looking for house for our growing family." Addison forces a smile as Dean places a hand on her belly.

"Well, this is a great neighborhood to start a family in," Larry brightly replies as they walk to a backyard filled with people.

"Larry, you mentioned that you're the developer," Addison asks.

"Eighteen months ago, I was walking this valley with my survey team. There was nothing here but scrub brush and squirrels. And you know what, we built such a nice place to live that I actually bought into it myself. This is our house. We're the first family in Oasis Plains," Larry explains. A older, blonde woman walks over to them. "This is my wife, Joanie."

"Hi, there," Joanie greets.

"Hi," Addison replies, shaking her hand.

"Hi, nice to meet you."

"Addison, Dean, and Sam," Larry introduces, motioning who was who. "Tell them how much you love the place, honey. And lie if you have to because I need to sell some houses."

Joanie laughs. "Right."

"Will you excuse me," Larry asks and walks away.

"Don't let his salesman routine scare you. This really is a great place to live," Joanie says.

A dark haired woman walks over to them. She was wearing a realtor's outfit and her hair was pulled into a tight bun. "Hi, I'm Lynda Bloome, head of sales."

"And Lynda was second to move in. She's a very noisy neighbor, though," Joanie tells them before walking away.

Lynda forcefully laughs. "She's kidding, of course. I take it you two are interested in becoming homeowners," Lynda says, looking between Dean and Sam.

Addison smirks. "Yes, they are," she says, patting the brothers' shoulders. "I'm gonna leave you three to talk." She smiles and walks away. She finds a refreshment table and grabs a cookie.

"Okay. You've got your revenge." Addison turns around to see Dean standing there. He grabs a cookie off of the table. "I'm gonna talk to Larry. You coming?"

Addison links her arm through Dean's. "Fine. But only for our fake unborn kid.”

* * *

Addison and Dean reenter the backyard with Larry. Sam stood talking to a teenage kid, who held a large black spider. "Matthew," Larry angrily says. He looks at them. "I am so sorry about my son and his pet."

"It's no bother," Sam replies.

"Excuse us," Larry tells them and drags Matthew away from them.

"Remind you of somebody," Sam asks and Dean looks to see Larry yelling at Matthew. He looks at Sam, a confused look on his face. "Dad?"

"Dad never treated us like that," Dean counters.

"Well, Dad never treated you like that. You were perfect. He was all over my case. You don't remember?"

"Well, maybe had to raise his voice, but sometimes, you were our of line."

"Right," Sam sarcastically says. "Right, like when I said I'd rather play soccer than learn bowhunting."

"Bowhunting's an important skill."

"Whatever. How was the tour?"

"Great. I'm so ready to buy and have imaginary babies with Dean," Addison retorts and Sam laughs. "Anyway, there might be something. That Dustin Burwash guy wasn't the first strange death in the area."

"What happened?"

"Before they broke ground, last year, one of the surveyors that Larry hired, dropped dead on the job. From severe allergic reaction to bee stings."

"More bugs."

"More bugs," Addison and Dean say at the same time.

* * *

Sam drives through the subdivision. Dean sat in the passenger seat, going through his father's journal. Addison was leaning over the seat, reading over Dean's shoulder. "You know, I've heard of killer bees, but killer beetles? What is it that could make different bugs attack," Dean asks.

"Sometimes hauntings have bug manifestations," Addison replies.

"Yeah, but I didn't see any evidence of ghost activity."

"Yeah, I know."

"Maybe they're being controlled somehow. You know, by something or someone."

"You mean, like Willard," Sam asks.

"Yeah, bugs instead of rats."

"There are cases of psychic connections between people and animals — elementals, telepaths."

"Like Timmy and Lassie," Addison comments and realization hits her. "Larry's kid. What his name? He's got a creepy thing for bugs."

"Matt?"

"Yeah, him."

"He did try to scare the realtor with a tarantula."

"You think he's our Willard," Dean asks and Addison shrugs.

"I don't know. But the kid keeps bugs as pets. That counts for something," Addison replies.

"Hey. Pull over here," Dean suddenly says, motioning to an empty driveway.

"What are we doing here," Sam asks, pulling into the driveway.

"It's too late to talk to anybody else," Dean replies, getting out of the car. He opens the garage door and Addison rolls her eyes.

Sam rolls down the window. "We're gonna squat in an empty house?"

"I wanna try the steam shower. Come on. Come on!"

Sam pulls in the garage and Dean closes the door. Addison opens the back door and hops out of the Impala. "Dibs on the shower.”

* * *

Sam knocks on a door. The sound of the shower could be heard. He rolls his eyes and knocks again. "You ever coming out of there," he asks through the door.

"What," Dean shouts.

"Dean, a police call came in on the scanner."

Addison walks over to the door and pushes Sam out of the way. He stands back as she opens the door and enters the steam filled bathroom. "Ads, I didn't know that you wanted to see me naked that badly. I would've invited you to try the steam shower with me."

"I tried the steam shower earlier, Dean," Addison counters. "I'm looking for my necklace."

"Anyway," Sam loudly says from outside the bathroom. "Someone was found dead three blocks from here. So, come on."

"This shower is awesome," Dean exclaims and Sam rolls his eyes.

"Found it," Addison says and walks out of the bathroom. Sam stares at her. "What?"

"Nothing," Sam replies. 

"Uh huh.”

* * *

Addison huddles under the umbrella with Dean after they all climb out of the Impala. They watch as the corner pushes a stretcher towards a black van. Larry was talking to someone. He seems them and walks over. "Hello. You're, uh, back early," he greets.

"Yeah, we just drove in, wanted to take another look at the neighborhood," Dean replies.

"What's going on," Addison asks.

"You met, uh, Lynda Bloome at the barbecue," Larry replies.

"The realtor," Sam asks.

Larry nods. "Well, she, uh, passed away last night."

"Oh my God. What happened," Addison asks him.

"I'm still trying to find out. Identified the body for the police. Look, I-I'm sorry, this isn't a good time now."

"It's fine."

"Excuse me," Larry says and walks away.

"You know what we have to do, right," Dean quietly asks.

"Yeah. Get in that house," Sam replies.

"See if we got a bug problem." Addison groans. Five minutes later, they're standing in Lynda's bedroom after climbing over the fence, up the side of the house, and through a bedroom window. There was a chalk outline on the floor. "This looks like the place."

Addison sees a towel and picks it up. "Ewe! Ewe! Ewe," she exclaims, quickly dropping the towel and moving back.

Dean kneels down and examines the numerous spiders on the floor. "Spiders," he states. "From Spider Boy?"

"Matt — maybe," Sam replies.

"That kid is so not normal," Addison comments. Dean smirks and tosses a spider towards her, causing Addison to squeal.

* * *

Dean stops the Impala down the street from where a school bus was. They watch as Matt gets off the bus and starts walking. "Isn't his house that way," Dean asks, pointing in the opposite direction that Matt was going.

"Yep," Sam answers.

"Where do you think he's going," Addison asks. The brothers answer by choosing to get out of the car. Addison lets out a sigh and climbs out of the Impala. They follow in the direction that Matt went and find him in the woods, studying a grasshopper.

"Hey, Matt," Sam says. "Remember me?"

"What are you going out here," Matt replies.

"Well, we wanna talk to you," Dean answers.

"You're not here to buy a house are you?" Dean shakes his head and Matt stares at them. "W-wait. You're not serial killers?"

They all laugh. Addison shakes her head. "No, no. Pretty sure that you're safe," Addison replies.

"So, Matt, you sure know a lot about insects," Dean states.

"So," Matt counters.

"Did you hear what happened to Lynda, the realtor?"

"I heard she died this morning."

"Mm, that's right. Spider bites."

"Matt, you tried to scare her with a spider," Sam says.

"Wait. You think I had something to do with that," Matt asks.

"How about you tell us," Addison says.

"That tarantula was a joke. Anyway, that wouldn't explain the bee attack or the gas company guy."

"You know about those," Sam asks.

"There is something going on here. I don't know what, but something's happening with the insects. Let me show you something," Matt says and starts leading them through the woods.

Addison leans close to Dean. "I hate this case," she whispers and Dean lightly chuckles.

"So, if you knew about all this bug stuff, why not tell your dad," Sam asks Matt. "Maybe he could clear everybody out."

"Believe me, I've tried. But, uh, Larry doesn't listen to me," Matt answers.

"Why not?"

"Mostly? He's too disappointed in his freak son."

"I hear you."

"You do," Dean disbelievingly asks.

Sam glances back at him. "Matt, how old are you?"

"Sixteen," Matt replies.

"Well, don't sweat it, because in two years, something great is gonna happen."

"What?"

"College. You'll be able to get out of that house and away from your dad."

"What kind of advice is that," Dean demands, grabbing Sam and stopping. "Kid should stick with his family."

Addison looks between the brothers, then quickly walks past them. "So, Matt, how much further do we have to go," she asks.

"We're close," Matt answers.

"Lovely," Addison comments and they continue walking in silence.

They reach a large clearing. The sounds from the bugs were louder here. "I've been keeping track of insect populations. It's, um, part of an AP science class," Matt explains.

"You two are like peas in a pod," Dean comments. Addison looks at him, but he just shrugs.

"What's been happening," Sam asks Matt.

"A lot. I mean, from bees to earthworms, beetles, you name it. It's like they're congregating here," Matt explains.

"Why," Dean asks.

"I don't know."

Sam frowns. "What's that," he asks, motioning to a patch of dark grass. They walk over to it and Addison stops when she sees the mound of worms.

Dean steps on the worms and they fall, revealing a hole. He grabs a stick and pokes around inside the hole. "There's something down there," Dean states. He drops the stick and kneels down. His sticks his hand in the hole and after a minute, pulls something out. He shakes off the dirt and worms to reveal a human skull. He looks up to see shocked looks on their faces.

* * *

Addison opens the door of the Impala and slides out of the backseat, clutching a cardboard box filled with the human skulls. They had gone to a local university and were supposed to meet with an anthropology professor. "So, a bunch of skeletons in an unmarked grave," Sam states, climbing out of the front seat.

"Yeah. Maybe this is a haunting. Pissed off spirits? Some unfinished business," Dean asks. He rolls his eyes seeing that Addison was going to close the door with her foot and slams it shut.

"Yeah, maybe. Question is, why bugs? And why now?"

"Actually, that's two questions," Addison comments and is ignored.

"Yeah, so with that kid back there, why'd you tell him to just ditch his family like that," Dean asks Sam.

Addison rolls her eyes and continues walking to the building. As much as she loved them, she didn't like getting in the middle of what she called 'Winchester Family Drama.' She enters the building and finds the office of the professor. After walking up, three stories, Addison knocks on the opened office door. The professor was a middle age, balding man, who wore a tweed jacket and dress pants. "Hi. I have an appointment.” she brightly greets.

"Oh, please, come in.” the professor replies, motioning for her to take a seat. Addison sits down, tightly gripping the box. "So, you're in one of my classes?"

"Yeah, Anthro 101. I sit way in the back."

"You should think about sitting in the front."

Addison tensely smiles, seeing the professor's gaze darts between her face and her cleavage. "Yeah, I'll do that for the next class. Anyway. I found these bones and I thought who better to bring them to." She places the box on the desk and takes off the lid. "I found them when I was hiking near that new housing development. Oasis Plains."

"You go hiking alone?"

"Can you just tell me about the bones? And I won't report you for sexual harassment."

The professor clears this throat and nods. He carefully removes one of the skulls and examines it. "This is quite an interesting find you've made. I'd say they're one hundred, seventy years old, give or take. The timeframe and the geography heavily suggest Native American."

"Did any tribes live on that land?"

"Not according to the historical record. But the relocation of native peoples were quite common at that time."

"Yeah, I know. Do you know any local legends or oral histories about the land?"

"Well, you know, there's a Euchee tripe in Sapulpa. It's about sixty miles from here. Someone out there might know the truth."

"Thank you.” Addison says, placing the lid on the box. She gives the professor a smile, grabs the box, and walking out of the office. Halfway down the stairs, she runs into Dean and Sam.

"Where the hell have you been?” Dean demands.

"Uh, doing our job.” Addison counters. "Anyway, the bones are Native American and there's a tribe that might have some answers.”

* * *

A couple of hours later, they get out of the Impala and walking into a small diner. People were sitting around, eating and talking. They spot an older Native American man, sitting at a table alone and playing a game of solitaire. Addison walks over to him. "Joe White Tree," she asks and the man nods. She smiles. "Hi. We'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's okay."

"We're students from the university," Dean says as they all sit down.

"No, you're not. You're lying," Joe counters.

"Well, truth is—"

"You know who starts sentences with 'truth is'? Liars."

Dean exchanges a look with Addison and Sam. "Have you heard of Oasis Plains? It's a housing development near the Atoka Valley," Sam says.

"I like him. He's not a liar," Joe tells Dean and looks at Sam. "I know the area."

"Can you tell us about the history," Addison asks.

"Why do you wanna know?"

"Something bad is going on in Oasis Plains. We believe it might have something to do with some Native American bones that we found."

Joe nods. "I'll tell you what my grandfather told me, what his grandfather told him. Two hundred years ago, a band of my ancestors lived in that valley. One day, the American cavalry came to relocate them. They were resistant, the cavalry impatient. As my grandfather put it, on the night the moon and the sun share the sky as equals, the cavalry first raided our village. They murdered, raped. The next day, the cavalry came again, and the next, and the next.

"And on the sixth night, the cavalry came one last time. And by the time sun rose, every man, woman, and child still in the village was dead. They say on the sixth night, as the chief of the village lay dying, he whispered to the heavens that no white man would ever tarnish this land again. Nature would rise up and protect the valley. And it would bring as many days of misery and death to the white man as the cavalry had brought upon his people."

"Insects," Dean states. "Sounds like nature to me. Six days."

"And on the night of the sixth day, none would survive," Joe finishes.

They exchange a look. "Thank you," Addison replies and they stand up before walking out of the diner.

"When did the gas company man die," Sam asks as they head towards the Impala.

"Uh, let's see, we got here Tuesday, so, Friday the twentieth," Dean answers.

"Wait, March twentieth," Addison asks and Dean nods. "That's the spring equinox."

"The night the sun and the moon share the sky as equals."

"So, every year about this time, anybody in Oasis Plains is in danger. Larry built his neighborhood on cursed land," Sam says.

"And on the sixth night — that's tonight."

"If we don't do something, Larry's family will be dead by sunrise. So, how do we break the curse?"

"You don't," Addison answers. "You get the hell out of it's way as fast as you can. We gotta get Larry and his family out of there. Now.”

* * *

The Impala speeds down the dark road. Dean was driving and talking on his cell phone. Addison and Sam exchange a look as they hit a pothole. "Yes, Mr. Pike, there's a mainline gas leak in your neighborhood," Dean says. "Well, it's fairly extensive. I don't want to alarm you, but we need your family out of the vicinity for at least twelve hours or so, just to be safe. Travis Weaver. I work for Oklahoma Gas and Power, uh..."

Dean snaps his cell phone shut and Addison laughs. "Way to go, Dean," she comments.

"Shut up!"

"Give me the phone," Sam says, taking it from Dean. He dials a number. "Matt, it's Sam. Matt, just listen. You have to get your family out of that house right now, okay. Because something's coming. Yeah, a lot more. You've gotta make him, listen, okay?"

Addison rolls her eyes and snatches the phone out of Sam's hand. "Matt, no matter what, don't tell your parents the truth, okay? They'll just think you're crazy."

"But he's my—" Matt starts.

"Then say you have a sharp in your right side. And that you need to go to the hospital, okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, okay."

Matt hangs up and Addison closes the phone. She slaps Sam on the back of the head. "The hell are you thinking, Sam? 'Make him listen?' Seriously." Dean laughs at the look on Sam's face and Addison sits back.

* * *

Close to midnight, they pull up outside Larry's house. Larry moves the curtain back and sees the car. "Damn it, they're still here. Come on," Dean says.

They all get out of the car and are meet with Larry and Matt. "Get off my property before I call the cops," Larry angrily says.

"Mr. Pike, listen," Sam says.

"Dad, they're just trying to help," Matt pleads.

"Get in the house," Larry shouts.

"I'm sorry. I told him the truth," Matt tells them.

"What? Matt! We had a plan. What happened," Addison asks.

"Look, it's 12:00 A.M. They are coming any minute now. You need to get your family and go, before it's too late," Sam says.

"Yeah, you mean before the biblical swarm," Larry sarcastically says.

"Larry, what do you think really happened to that realtor, huh," Dean counters. "And the gas company guy? You don't think something weird is going on here?"

"Look, I don't know who you are, but you're crazy. You come near my boy or my family again and we're gonna have a problem."

"Well, I hate to be a downer, but we've got a problem right now."

"Dad, they're right, okay? We're in danger," Matt says.

"Matt, get inside! Now!"

"No! Why won't you listen to me?"

"Because this is crazy! It doesn't make any sense!"

"Look, this land is cursed! People have died here," Sam says. "Now, are you gonna really take that risk with your family?"

Addison frowns. "Shut up for a second," she says. A loud buzzing noise is heard. "You hear that?"

The buzzing noise gets louder. The bug light on the porch suddenly starts going off, rapidly killing bugs. "What the hell," Larry asks.

"All right, it's time to go. Larry, get your wife," Dean tells him.

"Guys," Matt says, motioning to the sky. A large black cloud was flying towards them.

"Oh my God," Larry lets out.

"We'll never make it," Sam tells Dean and Addison.

"Everybody in the house. Everybody in the house, go," Dean says. They run into the house and Sam slams the door shut, locking the door.

"Okay, is there anybody else in the neighborhood," Sam asks Larry.

"No, it's just us," Larry answer as his wife, Joanie, enters the foyer from the living room.

"Honey, what's happening? What's that noise," Joanie asks.

"Call 911," Larry replies and Joanie stands there. "Joanie!" She nods and grabs the phone.

"We need towels," Dean says.

"Uh, in the closet."

Dean nods and walks away. Addison follows him into a different room. Dean opens the door and start shoving towels to Addison. "I really, really, hate this case," she tells him.

"Yeah, me too," Dean replies and they walk back into the foyer.

"Phones are dead," Joanie says.

"They probably chewed through the phone lines," Addison comments as Dean starts putting the towels at the base of the front door. The power suddenly goes out. "And now the power lines."

"I need my cell," Larry says and grabs his cell phone off a nearby table. "No signal."

"You won't get one," Dean tells him. "They're blanketing the house."

"So, what do we do now?"

"We try to outlast it," Sam says, walking down the stairs with Matt behind him. Dean runs out of the foyer. "Hopefully, the curse will end at sunrise."

"Hopefully?"

Dean reenters, carrying a can of bug spray. "Bug spray," Joanie asks.

"Trust me," Dean replies and a noise comes from a different room.

"What is that," Matt asks.

"The fireplace's flue," Addison answers.

"All right, I think everybody needs to get upstairs," Dean says. They start walking up the stairs as a swarm of bees enters the house. The Pikes scream as they rush up the stairs. Sam pulls a string and a ladder comes down. Dean reaches them, having stayed behind to kill bees. "All right, everybody upstairs! Now! Go, go, go!"

The Pikes go first, then Addison and Dean. Sam brings up the rear and closes the attic door. Sawdust starts falling raining down on them and Addison lets out a frustrated sigh. "Oh, God, what's that," Joanie asks.

"Something's eating through the wood."

"Termites," Addison answers.

"All right, everybody get back. Get back, get back, get back!"

Addison crowds in a corner with the Pikes. She watches as the bugs chew a hole in the roof and Sam and Dean try to hold them back. More holes appear in the roof. Addison kneels and motions for the Pikes to do the same.

Sam joins them as Dean uses the bug spray and a lighter. Dean joins them and they all huddle together. Hours pass before the bugs suddenly go away. They all stand up and see that the sun has risen. Bugs could be seen flying away in a massive cloud. Addison lets out a relived sigh and leans against Dean.

* * *

Dean stops the Impala in front of the Pikes' house later that afternoon. A large moving truck was sitting in front of the house. They all climb out and walk over to Larry, who was placing boxes in the truck. "What, no goodbye," Dean asks.

"Good timing. Another hour and we'd have been gone," Larry replies, shaking each of their hands.

"For good," Sam asks.

"Yeah. The development's been put on hold while the government investigates those bones you found. But I'm gonna make damn sure no one lives here again."

"You don't seem upset about that," Addison comments.

"Well, this has been the biggest financial disaster of my career, but, somehow, I really don't care."

Sam walks over to Matt. "Well, good luck, Larry," Addison says. Larry nods and she and Dean walk back over to the Impala. "You know, I think this proves that I'm right about bugs. They're all bad and evil and gross."

"You got me there," Dean replies. He stops and looks at her. "The other day, you went ahead without me and Sam."

Addison lets out a heavy sigh. "Dean, there are times you and Sam need to talk without me around. Besides, what am I supposed to do? Just awkwardly stand there? No thanks."

Dean thinks it over for a second, then nods. "I get it." He smirks. "By the way, I'm going to kick your ass at pool, Addison."

"Oh, you wish."

Sam joins them by the Impala. "I wanna find Dad," he says.

"Yeah, me too," Dean replies.

"Yeah, but I just, I want to apologize to him."

"For what?"

"All the things I said to him. He was just doing the best he could."

"Sam, don't worry," Addison says. "We'll find John, you'll apologize, blah, blah, blah, happy family reunion. Then five minutes later, you'll both be fighting again."

Sam laughs. "Yeah, probably." He nods and glances over to where Larry and Matt were packing up the truck. "Let's hit the road."

"Let's. Because I got a bet to win," Dean says. Addison laughs and shakes her head as they all climb into the Impala.


	9. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Supernatural or anything associated with it. But I do, however, own the original characters.

Addison sat on the motel bed, with her laptop in her lap. Dean sat at the table with Sam's computer in front of him. And Sam was on the other bed, drawing something. "All right.” Dean says. "I've been cruising some websites. I think I found a few candidates for our next gig. A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali — it's crew vanished. And, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas. Hey." Sam looks up. "Am I boring you two with this hunting evil stuff?"

"No. I'm listening. Keep going," Sam replies, turning back to his drawing.

"In Sacramento, a man shot himself in the head," Addison says, looking at Dean. "Three times. And in a town in Massachusetts, there's been reports of a talking cat."

"Any of these things blowing up your skirt," Dean asks Sam.

"Wait. I've seen this," Sam replies.

"Seen what?" Sam doesn't say anything as he gets up and starts going through his duffel bag. Dean looks at Addison and she shrugs. "What are you doing?"

Sam looks between the drawing and the photo. "I know where we have to go next."

"Where?"

"Back home — back to Kansas."

"Okay, random. Where'd that come from?"

Sam hands Dean the photo. It was an old family picture in front of their old house. "All right, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right? The house where Mom died?"

"Yeah."

"And it didn't burn down, right? I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?"

"I guess so, yeah. What the hell are you talking about?"

"Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy, but, the people who live in our old house — I think they might be in danger."

"What makes you think that," Addison asks.

"Uh, it's just, um, look, just trust me on this, okay?"

"Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you," Dean disbelievingly asks.

"Yeah."

"Come on, man, that's weak. You gotta give us a little bit more than that."

"I can't really explain it is all."

"Well, tough. We're not going anywhere until you do."

Sam sighs. "I have these nightmares."

"We've noticed," Addison dryly says.

"And sometimes, they come true."

"Come again," Dean replies.

"Look, guys, I dreamt about Jessica's death — for days before it happened."

"Sam, people have screwed up dreams all the time," Addison counters. "It's probably just a coincidence."

Sam sits down at the end of Addison's bed. "No, I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn't do anything about it cause I didn't believe it. And now I'm dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that's where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right?"

"I don't know," Dean replies.

"What do you mean you don't know, Dean? This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed mom and Jessica!"

"All right, just slow down, would ya," Dean exclaims, standing up. "I mean, first you tell us that you've got the Shining. And then you tell me that I've gotta go back home? Especially when..."

"When what?"

"When I swore to myself that I would never go back there?"

"Look, Dean, we have to check this out. Just to make sure."

Dean sighs. "I know we do.”

* * *

Addison gets out of the Impala and looks at the two-story light blue house. The Impala doors open and she doesn't look as Sam and Dean get out. As they walk up to the house, Addison gives Dean a supportive smile. Dean knocks on the door and after a moment, a blonde woman, a few years older than them opens the door. "Yes?"

"Sorry to bother you, ma'am, but we're with the Federal—" Dean starts.

"I'm Sam Winchester, this is my brother, Dean, and our friend, Addison Sloan. My brother and me used to live here. You know, we were just driving by and we were wondering if we could come see the old place," Sam interrupts.

"Winchester. Yeah, that's so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night," the woman replies.

"You did," Dean disbelievingly asks.

"Come on in." They follow the woman into the house. "I'm Jenny, by the way." They walk into a kitchen where a young girl was sitting at a table and a toddler was bouncing in a playpen. "That's Ritchie. He's kind of a juice junkie," Jenny explains, walking over to the refrigerator. She opens it and takes out a sippy cup before handing it to Ritchie. "Sari, this is Sam, Dean, and Addison. Sam and Dean used to live here."

"Hi," Sari greets and Dean waves at her.

"Hey, Sari," Sam replies.

"So, did you just move in," Addison asks.

"Yeah, from Wichita," Jenny answers.

"You got family here, or..." Dean trails off.

"No. I just, uh, needed a fresh start, that's all. So, new town, new job — I mean, as soon as I find one. New house."

"So, how you liking it so far," Sam asks.

"Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home — I mean, I'm sure you had lots of happy memories here. But this place has its issues."

"What do you mean," Addison asks.

"Well, it's just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? We've got flickering lights almost hourly."

"Oh, that's too bad. What else," Dean asks.

"Um, sink's backed up, there's rats in the basement...I'm sorry. I don't mean to complain."

"No. Have you seen the rats or have you just heard scratching?"

"It's just the scratching, actually."

"Mom," Sari quietly says and Jenny kneels down next to her. "Ask them if it was here when they lived here."

"What, Sari," Sam asks.

"The thing in my closet."

"Oh, no, baby, there was nothing in their closets," Jenny says and looks to the brothers. "Right?"

"Right. No, no, of course not," Sam tells Sari.

"She had a nightmare the other night."

"I wasn't dreaming. It came into my bedroom — and it was on fire," Sari corrects.

"Thank you, Jenny, for letting us look around," Addison says. She smiles and walks out of the house, with Dean and Sam following her.

"You hear that," Sam asks, once they're outside. "A figure on fire."

"Was Jenny the woman in your dreams?"

"Yeah. And you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights, both signs of a malevolent sprit."

"Yeah, well, I'm just freaked out that your weirdo visions are coming true," Dean comments.

"Well, forget about that for a minute. The thing in the house, do you think it's the thing that killed mom and Jessica?"

"I don't know!"

"Well, I mean, has it come back or has it been here the whole time?"

"Or it could be something else, Sam. We don't know yet," Addison tells him.

"Well, those people are in danger, Addison. We have to get them out of that house."

"We will."

"No, I mean now."

"And how you gonna do that, huh," Dean asks. "You got a story that she's gonna believe?"

"Then what are we supposed to do," Sam counters. Silence falls over the three of them.

* * *

Addison pays the gas station attendant and walks outside, carrying a bottle of soda. The moment the Impala had pulled to a stop at the gas station, she had been the first one out of the car. Addison reaches the Impala and finds Sam alone. "Where's Dean," she asks, leaning against the car.

"Bathroom," Sam answers. Addison nods. "Is this weird for you? Because we're searching for the thing that killed our mom and you're not—"

"A member of the Winchester family," Addison interrupts and Sam sheepishly smiles. "Just a little. If I had someplace else to go, I'd leave. You know, let you guys deal with this yourself. But I don't. So, you're stuck with me."

"You're not that bad, Ads," Dean comments and they look at him. "Even when you're bitchy and PMSing."

Addison rolls her eyes. ”And you're not that big of a man whore, Dean.”

* * *

"So, you and John Winchester, you used to own this garage together," Dean asks. The three of them were standing in the open garage with the owner.

"Yeah, we used to a long time ago. Matter of fact, it must be, uh, twenty years since John disappeared. So, why the cops interested all of a sudden," the owner asks them.

"We're reopening some of the unsolved cases and John Winchester's disappearance was in the pile," Addison explains.

"Oh, well, what do you wanna know about John?"

"Well, whatever you remember. You know, whatever sticks out in your mind," Dean explains.

"Well, he was a stubborn bastard, I remember that. And, uh, whatever the game, he hated to lose, you know? It's that whole Marine thing. But, oh, he sure loved Mary. And he doted on those kids."

"But that was before the fire," Sam asks.

"That's right."

"He ever talk about that night?"

"No, not at first. I think he was in shock."

"Right. But eventually, what did he say about it?"

"Oh, he wasn't thinking straight. He said something caused that fire and killed Mary."

"He ever say what did it," Dean asks.

"Nothing did it. It was an accident — an electrical short in the ceiling or walls or something. I begged him to get some help, but..."

"But what," Addison asks.

"Oh, he started reading these strange old books. He started going to see this palm reader in town."

"You wouldn't happen to remember the name of that palm reader, would you?"

"No," the owner scoffs.

* * *

Addison stretches as Sam walks back over to the Impala. It hadn't been easy, but they had found a phone book and Sam had volunteered to look up the psychics. Dean leans against the Impala next to her. "All right, so there are a few psychics and palm readers in town," Sam announces, walking back over to them. "There's someone named El Divino. There's uh - there's the Mysterious Mister Fortinsky. Uh, Missouri Moseley—"

"Wait, wait. Missouri Moseley," Dean interrupts.

"What?"

"That's a psychic?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess so."

Dean reaches into the back seat of the Impala and takes out John's journal. "In Dad's journal...here, look at this." He opens the journal and shows them a page. "First page, first sentence, read that."

"I went to Missouri and I learned the truth," Addison reads.

"I always thought he meant the state.”

* * *

The house was nicely decorated. Addison sat between Dean and Sam on the couch, waiting. An African American woman walks out of a room with a man. "All right, there. Don't you worry about a thing. Your wife is crazy about you," Missouri Moseley says. The man nods and walks out of the house. "Whew. Poor bastard. His woman is cold banging the gardener."

"Why didn't you tell him," Dean asks.

"People don't come here for the truth. They come for good news. Well? Sam, Dean, and Addison, come on already, I ain't got all day," Missouri tells them and walks into another room. They three of the follow her. "Well, let me look at ya. Oh, you boys grew up handsome." Missouri points a finger at Dean. "And you were one goofy-looking kid too." Dean glares and Addison laughs. "Sam. Oh, honey, I'm sorry about your girlfriend. And your father — he's missing?"

"How'd you know that," Sam asks.

"Well, you were just thinking it just now."

"Well, where is he? Is he okay," Dean asks.

"I don't know."

"Don't know? Well, you're supposed to be a psychic, right?"

"Boy, you see me sawing some bony tramp in half? You think I'm a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can't just pull facts out of thin air. Sit, please." They sit down on a couch and Missouri sits in an armchair. "Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I'm a whack you with a spoon!"

"I didn't do anything."

"But you were thinking about it."

"Okay. So, our dad — when did you first meet him," Sam asks.

"He came for a reading. A few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say, I drew back the curtains for him."

"What about the fire," Dean asks. "Do you know about what killed our mom?"

"A little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hoping I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing."

"And did you," Addison asks. Missouri shakes her head. "So, what was it?"

"I don't know. Oh, but it was evil." Missouri takes a deep breath. "So, you think something is back in that house?"

"Definitely," Sam replies.

"I don't understand."

"What?"

"I haven't been back inside, but I've been keeping an eye on the place and it's been quiet. No sudden deaths, no freak accidents. Why is it acting up now?"

"I don't know. But Dad going missing and Jessica dying and now this house all happening at once - it just feels like something's starting."

"That's a comforting thought," Dean comments.

* * *

The four of them walk up to the house and Sam knocks on the door. After a moment, Jenny opens the door. "Sam, Dean, Addison. What are you doing here," Jenny asks.

"Hey, Jenny. This is our friend, Missouri," Sam tells her.

"If it's not too much trouble, we were hoping to show her the old house. You know, for old time's sake," Dean says.

"You know, this isn't a good time. I'm kind of busy," Jenny replies.

"Listen, Jenny, it's important." Missouri slaps Dean on the back of the head and Addison snorts. "Owe!"

"Give the poor girl a break, can't you see she's upset," Missouri says and turns to Jenny. "Forgive this boy, he means well, he's just not the sharpest tool in the shed, but hear me out."

"About what," Jenny asks.

"About this house."

"What are you talking about?"

"I think you know what I'm talking about. You think there's something in this house, something that wants to hurt your family. Am I mistaken?"

"Who are you?"

"We're people who can help, who can stop this thing. But you're gonna have to trust us, just a little." After a few minutes, the group finds themselves in Sari's room. The walls were a light blue. "If there's a dark energy around here, this room would be the center of it."

"Why," Sam asks.

"This used to be your nursery, Sam. This is where it all happened," Missouri explains. Sam glances at the ceiling. Dean takes out the EMF meter. "That an EMF?"

"Yeah," Dean replies.

"Amateur." Dean elbows Addison and she glares at him. He puts the EMF meter in her face and she notices it lighting up. "I don't know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved, but this ain't the thing that took your mom."

"Wait, are you sure," Sam asks and Missouri nods. "How do you know?"

"It isn't the same energy I felt the last time I was here. It's something different."

"So, what is it," Addison asks.

"Not it," Missouri says. She walks over to the closet and opens the door. "Them. There's more than one spirit in this place."

"What are they doing here," Dean asks.

"They're here because of what happened to your family. You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And sometimes, wounds get infected."

"I don't understand."

"This place is a magnet for paranormal energy. It's attracted a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it won't rest until Jenny and her babies are dead."

"But you said there was more than one ghost," Addison comments.

"There is. I just can't make out the second one."

"Well, one thing's for damn sure - nobody's dying in this house ever again. So, whatever is here, how do we stop it," Dean says, looking around at them. Addison shrugs.

* * *

Addison sat next to Dean and across from Sam at the table in Missouri's kitchen. Missouri places some different herbs and roots on the table before sitting down next to Sam. "So, what is all this stuff, anyway," Dean asks. Addison holds back the smile when he picks something up and smells it.

"Angelica Root, Van Van oil, crossroad dirt, a few other odds and ends," Missouri answers.

"Yeah? What are we supposed to do with it?"

"We're gonna put them inside the walls in the north, south, east, west corners on each floor of the house."

"Nice, putting holes in the wall. Jenny is going to love that," Addison comments.

"She'll live."

"And this'll destroy the spirits," Sam asks.

"It should. It should purify the house completely. We'll each take a floor. But we gotta work fast. Once the spirits realize what we're up to, things are gonna get bad.”

* * *

Addison walks into the living room of Jenny's house. There were a couple of couches and an entertainment center against one wall. She makes her way to the northern most wall and uses the hammer to make a hole in the wall. A book hits the wall, centimeters away from her head.  "Son of a bitch," Addison mutters. More books fly at her. Addison quickly shoves the small bag filled with herbs into the hole. She ducks behind one of couches as other objects fly at her. All of a sudden, the house is surrounded in a bright light. Cautiously, Addison looks over the chair and lets out a relived breath.

Addison sits there for a few moments, before standing up and making her way into the kitchen. She whistles seeing the massive mess in the kitchen. She turns to see Dean, Sam, and Missouri walk into the room. "You sure this is over," Sam asks.

"I'm sure," Missouri replies. "Why? Why do you ask?"

"Never mind. It's nothing, I guess."

The door opens and closes. "Hello? We're home," Jenny calls out. They turn as she enters carrying Ritchie. Sari stands behind her. "What happened?"

"Hi, sorry. Um, we'll pay for all of this."

"Don't you worry. Dean's gonna clean up this," Missouri says and Dean doesn't move. "Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Get the mop. And don't cuss at me!"

Addison laughs as he starts to leave the room. Dean turns back and grabs her wrist, pulling her with him. "Oh, you're helping," Dean tells her.

"Yeah, cause someone has to show you how to clean," Addison amusedly says.

* * *

Addison yawns and stretches out in the backseat of the Impala. "Why are we still here," she tiredly asks. They were parked across the street from Jenny's house, something that Sam insisted they do.

"I don't know. I just, I still have a bad feeling," Sam replies.

"Why? Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing, the house should be clean, it should be over," Dean tells him.

"Yeah, well, probably. But I just wanna make sure, that's all."

"Whatever. I should be sleeping in a bed," Addison mutters.

"I second that," Dean says.

Sam shakes his head and looks out the window. "Dean. Addison, look," he exclaims and rushes out of the car. Addison and Dean quickly follow suit.

"You two grab the kids, I'll get Jenny," Dean says as they enter the house.

"I'll get the little one," Addison tells Sam and they split up. She enters a room and rushes over to the crib. She grabs Ritchie out of the crib and rushes down the stairs.

"Addison!" She stops and turns to see Sam and Sari. "Sari, go with Addison. And don't look back," he tells the girl. Sari runs over to Addison.

Something knocks Sam to the ground and drags him into the kitchen. "Sam," Addison shouts. She grabs Sari's hand and they run outside. They find Dean and Jenny standing by the Impala.

"Addison, where's Sam," Dean anxiously asks as she hands Ritchie to Jenny.

"Inside. Something grabbed him." A slamming grabs their attention and they look to see the front door closed. Dean rushes to the Impala's trunk and opens it. Addison watches as he grabs an axe and runs to the door. It takes Dean a few minutes before he's able to make a hole that he can crawl through.

"Are they going to be okay," Sari asks.

"They're going to be fine," Addison says, giving the young girl a smile.

* * *

Addison smiles and leans against Dean. He was looking through the box of old photos that Jenny had given him. "Thanks for these," Dean says.

"Don't thank me, they're yours," Jenny replies. She gives them a smile and walks back to the house.

"Awe, Dean, there's proof that you weren't always a man whore," Addison comments.

Dean rolls his eyes and looks at the next picture. He frowns. The picture was of a little boy and a little red headed girl. He flips it over.  _Dean and Addison, March 1981_. "I don't remember this ever being taken," he says. "Do you?"

"No. But then again, I don't really remember a lot from when I was two."

Dean puts the pictures back in the box and closes it. He drops it in the backseat. "Sam, you ready," Dean calls out. Sam nods and walks over to the Impala with Missouri.

"Don't you three be strangers," Missouri says.

"We won't."

"See you around." They wave and climb into the Impala before driving away.

It's later that night, when Addison opens the box. She searches through the pictures and finds the one of her and Dean. Silently, she puts the picture into her duffel bag and quietly closes the box.


	10. Asylum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, but I own the original characters.

"No, Dad was in California last we heard from him.” Sam says into his phone as he paces around the motel room. Dean and Addison sat on a bed. Dean was looking through John's journal while Addison was painting her nails. "We just thought that he comes to you for munitions — maybe you've seen him in the last few weeks." Dean smirks and nudges Addison, causing her to smug her nail. She glares at him and he innocently shrugs. "Just call us if you hear anything. Thanks."

"Caleb hasn't heard from him," Dean asks, turning his his younger brother.

"Nope. Neither has Jefferson or Pastor Jim. And Caleb wanted me to tell Addison hi. What about the journal? Any leads in there?"

"No. Same last time I looked. Nothing I can make out. I love the guy, but I swear, he writes like frigging Yoda."

"You know, maybe we should call the Feds. File a missing persons."

"We talked about this. Dad would be pissed if we put the Feds on his tail."

"I don't care anymore." A cell phone starts ringing. Dean looks at Addison and she stares back at him. "After all that happened back in Kansas, I mean, he should've been there, Dean. You said so yourself, you tried to call him, and nothing."

"I know. Where the hell is my phone?"

"Under those clothes," Addison answers, motioning to a pile of clothes.

"You know, he could be dead for all we know," Sam says.

"Sam, don't say that. John isn't dead. He's just—"

"He's what, Ads? He's hiding? He's busy?"

"I don't believe it," Dean comments and they look at him.

"Care to share with the rest of the class, Dean," Addison says.

"It's a text message. It's coordinates."

A couple of minutes later, Dean is sitting at the table with Addison's laptop in front of him. Sam was still pacing and Addison stood next to the table. "You think Dad was texting us," Sam asks, looking between the two of them.

"Well, he's given us coordinates before," Addison replies.

Sam shakes his head in disbelief. ”The man can barely work a toaster, Addison."

"Sam, this is good news. It means he's okay,” Dean says, pausing. “Or alive, at least.”

"Well, was there a number on the caller ID?"

"No, it said 'unknown.'"

"Okay, well, where do the coordinates point?"

"That's the interesting part — Rockford, Illinois."

"What's so interesting about Rockford," Addison asks.

"I checked the local Rockford paper. Take a look at this." Dean turns the laptop around. A picture of a man in a police uniform was accompanied by a newspaper article. "This cop, Walter Kelly, comes home from his shift, shoots his wife, puts the gun in his mouth, and blows his brains out. And earlier that night, Kelly and his partner responded to call at the Roosevelt Asylum."

"Okay, I'm not following. What does this have to do with us," Sam asks.

"Dad earmarked the same asylum in the journal," Dean answers. He flips open the journal and searches through it before finding the old newspaper clipping. "Here. Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths — until last week, at least. I think this is where he wants us to go."

"This is a job. Dad wants us to work a job."

"Well, maybe he'll be there," Addison suggests.

"Maybe he's not. I mean, he could be sending us there by ourselves to hunt this thing."

"Who cares? If he wants us there, that's good enough for me," Dean replies, standing up.

"This doesn't strike either of you as weird? The texting? The coordinates?"

"Sam, Dad's telling us to go somewhere — we're going."

Dean walks out of the room and Sam turns to Addison. "Sam, I stopped trying to figure out why John does things the way he does a long time ago," Addison comments.

* * *

Addison doesn't look up from her cell phone when Dean walks out of the bar. She was laying on the Impala's hood. He leans against it and nudges her leg. "You're not going to say anything," he asks. She hadn’t been happy over being voted out of talking to Walter Kelly’s partner.

"Say anything about what," Addison counters. Dean walks to the front of the Impala and grabs her feet. He yanks her down the hood and she stares at him, eyebrow raised. "What are you doing?"

"I want to see who you're texting," Dean answers, reaching her Blackberry. Addison pushes him away and tries to get away. He grabs her around the waist and she puts her phone in her pocket. "Ads, that's not gonna stop me."

"Yes, it will, man whore."

"Slut."

"Bitch."

Dean shoves his hand down the front pocket of her jeans. Addison throws her head back, trying to hit him. "Guys, what are you doing?" They turn to see Sam.

"This isn't what it looks like," Addison quickly says.

"Its exactly what it looks like," Dean counters, grinning as his grasps the Blackberry. Addison elbows him in the stomach and he removes his hand, along with the Blackberry. "What'd you find out from Gunderson?"

Sam looks between them as Dean shoves Addison’s Blackberry in his jacket pocket. "So, Walter Kelly was a good cop. Head of his class, even keeled. He had a bright future ahead of him.

"And what about at home," Addison asks.

"He and his wife had a few fights, like everybody, but it was mostly smooth sailing. They were even talking about having kids."

"All right, so, either Kelly had some deep seated crazy way to bust out or something else did it to him," Dean comments.

"Right."

"What'd Gunderson tell you about the asylum?"

"A lot.”

* * *

The three of them hop the fence that surrounded an old asylum and enter. Graffiti covered the walls while empty beer bottles and leaves were scattered across the floor. Desks and old medical equipment was strewn about. ”So apparently, the cops chased the kids here — into the south wing," Sam says, shining his flashlight on a sign above a set of double doors.

"The south wing? Wait second," Dean says. He takes out John's journal and looks through it. "In 1972, three kids broke into the south wing. Only one survived. The way he tells it, one of his friends went nuts and started lighting up the place."

"I guess the south wing is the heart of whatever is going on," Addison comments.

Dean snaps the journal shut and shoves it in his jacket. ”Yeah, but if kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren't there a ton more deaths?"

They notice the chains on the door. "Looks like the doors are usually chained. Could have been chained up for years," Sam says.

"Yeah to keep people out — or to keep something in."

Sam walks towards the doors and they swing open. "That's not creepy at all," Addison says and they enter the south wing.

The area seemed like everywhere else in the building. Dean takes out his EMF meter and turns it on. He smirks at Sam. ”Let me know if you see any dead people, Haley Joel."

Sam shoots him an annoyed look. ”Dude, enough."

"No, I'm serious, you've gotta be careful, all right? Ghosts are attracted to that whole ESP thing you've got going on."

"I told you, it's not ESP. I just have strange vibes sometimes, weird dreams."

Dean shrugs. ”Yeah, whatever. Don't ask, don't tell."

"You getting a reading on that thing or not?"

"Nope. Of course, it doesn't mean nobody's home."

"Spirits can appear during certain hours of the day."

"Well, the freaks do come out at night. Right, Dean," Addison comments.

Sam laughs. "Yeah."

"Hey, Sam, who do you think is a hotter psychic — Patricia Arquette, Jennifer Love Hewitt, or you," Dean counters and Sam hits him on the arm.

Addison pats Sam's shoulder. "You get my vote, Sam." They enter one of the rooms. Moldy jars and tools were scattered around. "Gross."

"Man. Electroshock, lobotomies — they did some twisted stuff to these people. Kind of like my man, Jack in  _Cuckoo's Nest_ ," Dean jokes and they stare at him. He clears his throat and looks around the room. "So, what do you think? Ghosts are possessing people?"

"Could be like Amityville or the Smurl haunting," Addison suggests and Dean nods.

"Yeah, spirits driving them insane. Kind of like my man Jack in _The Shining_."

"When are we gonna talk about it," Sam asks.

"Talk about what?"

Sam sighs. ”About the fact that Dad's not here."

"Oh, uh, let's see, never."

Sam rolls his eyes. "I'm being serious, man."

"So am I, Sam. Look, he sent us here, he obviously wants us here. We'll just have to pick up the search later."

"It doesn't matter what he wants."

"See, that attitude right there? That is why I always get the extra cookie.

"Dad could be in trouble. We should be looking for him. We deserve some answers, Dean, I mean, this is our family we're talking about," Sam argues. Addison lets out a sigh and looks around the room.

"I understand that, Sam. But he's given us an order."

Sam shakes his head. ”So, what? We've got to always follow Dad's orders?"

"Of course we do," Dean replies.

Addison picks up an object and brushes it off. "Hey, guys," she calls and they walk over to her. She holds up the name plate. “Sanford Ellicott. Something big went down here and we gotta find out what.”

* * *

Dean leans against the Impala as he and Addison wait outside the office building. They had sent Sam to go talk to the doctor. He looks over at Addison and rolls his eyes seeing she was on her Blackberry once more. Annoyed, he grabs the Blackberry out of her hand and she stares at him as he pockets it. Dean shakes his head and sees Sam walking towards them. "Dude, you were in there forever. What the hell were you talking about?"

"Just the hospital, you know," Sam replies.

"And?"

"And the south wing? That's where they housed the real hard cases — the psychotic, the criminally insane."

"Nice," Addison sarcastically says, shoving her phone into pocket of her hoodie.

Sam nods in agreement. ”Yeah. And one night in '64, they rioted — attacked staff, attacked each other."

"And the patients took over the asylum?"

"Apparently."

"Any deaths," Dean asks.

"Some patients, some staff. I guess it was pretty gory. Some of the bodies were never even recovered, including our Chief of Staff Ellicott."

Dean frowns. ”Wait, what do you mean, 'never recovered'?"

"Cops scoured every inch of the place, but I guess the patients must have stuffed the bodies somewhere."

"Great," Addison comments.

"Yeah. So, they transferred all the surviving patients and shut down the hospital for good."

"All right, so, to sum it up, we've got a bunch of violent deaths and a bunch of unrecovered bodies," Dean says.

"Which could mean a bunch of angry spirits."

"Oh, good times. Let's check out the hospital tonight," Dean replies and they climb into the Impala.

* * *

Inside the asylum that night, Addison turns on the video camera. She didn’t know what it was, but the building did seem more eerie at night than it did earlier. Dean held the EMF meter and Sam held the flashlight. Dean turns on the EMF and it starts wildly beeping. "Getting readings," Sam asks.

"Yeah, big time," Dean responds.

"Well, orbs are going crazy," Addison says and Dean looks over her shoulder.

"There's probably multiple sprits out and about."

"If these unrecovered bodies are causing the haunting…" Sam trails off.

"We've gotta find them and burn them," Dean finishes. "Just be careful, though. The only thing that makes me more nervous than a pissed off spirit is the pissed off spirit of a psycho killer."

"And yet, I can think of other things that would be worse," Addison says. They search around the asylum and end up in a large room. Addison turns off the camera and trades it for a flashlight in the duffle bag.

"Dean," Sam shouts. "Dean! Salt gun!"

Addison turns to see a spirit very close to Sam. Dean pulls out a shotgun. "Sam, get down," Dean orders.

Sam ducks and Dean fires the shotgun. The spirit disappears and Sam stands up. The younger Winchester frowns. "That was weird."

"Yeah. You're telling me," Dean replies and they walk out of the room.

Sam shakes his head. ”No, Dean, I mean it was weird that she didn't attack me."

“Uh, looked like she was," Addison counters.

"She didn't hurt me. She didn't even try. So, if she didn't wanna hurt me, then what did she want?"

A noise comes from a room and they stop. They exchange looks and enter the room. Someone was hiding behind a table. Sam moves the table and a young blonde girl jumps. "It's all right. We're not gonna hurt you. It's okay," Dean says and the girl stands up. "What's your name?"

"Katherine — Kat," the girl replies.

"Okay. I'm Dean, this is Sam and Addison."

"Why are you here," Addison asks.

"Um, my boyfriend, Gavin—" Kat starts.

"Is he here," Dean interrupts.

"Somewhere." The three of them exchange a look. Kat lets out an annoyed huff. "He thought it would be fun to try and see some ghosts. I thought it was just, you know, pretend. I've seen things. I head Gavin scream and—"

Dean nods. ”Okay, Kat. Come on, Sam's gonna get you out of here and then we're gonna find your boyfriend."

Kat shakes her head. ”No, no. I'm not gonna leave without Gavin. I'm coming with you."

"It's no joke around here, okay? It's dangerous."

"That's why I've gotta find him."

Sam stares and Dean lets out a sigh. "All right, I guess we're gonna split up then. Let's go."

Dean takes Kat and they walk off. Addison shrugs and walks in the opposite direction while Sam goes in a different direction. She huffs and enters a room. The flashlight starts blinking and she slaps it. "Oh come on," Addison mutters. The door to the room slams shut and she quickly turns. "The hell?"

Addison tries opening the door, but it doesn't budge. She slams her hand on the metal. "Hey! Someone open the door," she shouts. "I'm not joking! Open the fucking door right now!"

"Addison," Dean's voice shouts.

"Dean! Open the door! This isn't funny!"

"I didn't do it!"

"Then get me the hell out of here!"

"Ads, hang on!"

Addison rolls her eyes. She lets out a breath and sees it in the air. She turns and sees a spirit walk slowly walking towards her. It was a man, who wore a pair of dirty scrubs and had messy hair. Addison presses her self against the door. "Dean, you need to work faster!"

"Addison, it's not gonna hurt you," Sam tells her. "Listen to me! You have to face it."

"Sam, this isn't funny!"

"The spirits — they're not trying to hurt us, they're trying to communicate. You've gotta listen to it."

Addison blinks and glances at the door. ”Are you fucking insane!"

"Addison, it's the only way you're gonna get out of there."

Addison angrily sighs. She turns and sees the spirit standing behind her. She remains still as the spirit leans in and whispers in her ear. The spirit backs up and she hears a faint click. Addison moves from the door and opens it. "Room one thirty seven," she says. She gives Kat and the young man, who she assumed was Gavin, a tense smile.

Dean and Sam kneel down to look through the duffel bag. "All right, so if these spirits aren't trying to hurt anyone—" Sam starts.

"Then what are they trying to do," Dean finishes.

"Maybe that's what they've been trying to tell us."

"I guess we’ll find out." They stand up and Dean hands Addison the duffel bag. Dean turns to Kat and Gavin. ”So, now, are you guys ready to leave this place?"

"That's an understatement," Kat replies.

“Okay.” Dean turns to Sam. “You get them outta here. Me and Ads are gonna go find room one thirty seven."

Addison and Dean walk down the hallway while Sam, Kat, and Gavin go in the opposite direction. Silence settles over Addison and Dean. "Are you jealous," she amusedly asks.

"Jealous about what," Dean asks.

"The whole Caleb says hi.”

"Addison, I think," Dean pauses. They stop walking and he takes a step closer to her. She looks up at him. His lips hover over hers. ”That ghost fucked with your mind." Addison rolls her eyes and walks past him. It doesn't take them much long to find the room. All the furniture was over turned. Papers and other things were scattered all over the place. They go to opposite sides of the room and work silently. "This is why I get paid the big bucks," Dean says after a while.

Addison walks over to him. He was holding a book. "Patients' Journal," Addison reads aloud.

Dean grabs a chair and sits down. Addison looks over his shoulder as he flips through the book. "All work and no play makes Dr. Ellicott a very dull boy."

"Or very lonely." Addison leans in close. “So, if you weren’t jealous of Caleb, then why do you keep taking my phone?”

Dean rolls her eyes. “Hey, if you want to fuck an old dude—”

“He’s thirty-nine.”

“Whatever. I don’t care. You can do whatever you want. Hell, it’s none of my business anyway.”

Addison sighs. “I've been playing sudoku." Dean shoots her a confused look. "It's a Japanese puzzle game with numbers. Are we okay?"

Dean shakes his head in disbelief. ”Ads, you're a nerd.” She shoots him an annoyed look. “A hot nerd.”

* * *

Dean and Addison near the entrance of the south wing when a shot of rock salt narrowly misses them. "Damn it," Dean exclaims. He holds up his hands as he slowly edges around the corner. Addison presses herself against the wall. ”Damn it. Don't shoot, it's us!"

"Sorry! Sorry," Kat responds.

Addison and Dean step out from around the corner. "Why are you still here," Addison asks, frowning. "And where's Sam?"

"He went to the basement. You called him," Gavin answers.

"I didn't call him."

"His cell phone rang. He said it was you," Kat explains.

Dean and Addison exchange a knowing look. "Basement, huh," Dean asks. Gavin and Kat nod. "All right. Watch yourselves. And watch out for us."

The two of them quickly make their way down to the basement. "Sam," Addison calls out, looking around for the younger Winchester.

Dean sighs. ”Sammy? Sam?"

"Sam, this isn't funny!" Addison turns around and stumbles into Dean, seeing Sam standing right behind her. "Damn it, Sam. Say something when we call you."

Dean runs a hand over his face. ”You all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sam replies.

"You know that it wasn't Ads who called your cell, right?"

Sam nods. ”Yeah, I know. I think something lured me down here."

"Yeah. We think it might've been Dr. Ellicott," Addison says. "It's what the spirits have been trying to tell us. You haven't seen him, have you?"

"No. How do you know it was him?"

"Cause we found his log book," Dean answers. "Apparently, he was experimenting on his patients — some awful stuff. It makes lobotomies look like a couple of aspirin."

"But it was the patients who rioted."

"Yeah, but they were rioting against Ellicott," Addison says.

"Dr. Feelgood was working on some soft of, like, extreme rage therapy. He thought that if he could get his patients to vent their anger, then they'd be cured of it," Dean tells him. "Instead, it only made them worse and worse, angrier and angrier. So, we're thinking, what if his spirit is doing the same thing? To the cop, to the kids in the seventies — making them so angry, they become homicidal. Come on. We gotta find his bones and torch them."

"How," Sam asks. "The police never found his body."

"The log book said he had some sort of hidden procedure room down here somewhere, where'd he'd work on his patients. So if I was a patient, I'd drag his ass down here, do a little work on him myself."

"I don't know. It sounds kind of—"

"Insane," Addison interrupts.

"Yeah."

"Yeah, exactly," Dean responds as he and Addison search for the room.

Sam huffs. ”I told you, I looked everywhere. I didn't find a hidden room."

"Um, that's why it's called a hidden room, Sam," Addison replies.

"Do you hear that," Dean asks, looking around the room.

"Hear what?"

Dean kneels down by a wall. He finds a space between the wall and the floor. "There's a door here." Addison takes a step forward. Something hits the back of her head and she falls to the ground, unconscious.

* * *

"Thanks," Kat says as the five of them step outside the asylum. Addison tensely smiles, trying to ignore the dull pain from the back of her head. She had woken up to find both the boys kneeling above her. Sam had kept sending her apologetic looks as they made their way out of the asylum.

"Yeah, thanks," Gavin tells them.

"No more haunted asylums, okay," Dean tells Kat and Gavin. The three of them stand there as Kat and Gavin climb into their car and drive off.

"Hey, Dean," Sam starts. "I'm sorry, man. I said some awful things back there."

Dean glances at him. ”You remember all that?"

Sam sighs. "Yeah. It's like I couldn't control it. But I didn't mean it — any of it."

"You didn't, huh?"

"No, of course not. Do we need to talk about this?"

"No. I'm not really in the sharing, caring kind of mood. I just wanna get some sleep," Dean says and climbs into the Impala.

Addison clears her throat and gives Sam a knowing look. "You know I would never hit you on purpose."

"I know. I just needed you to say it," Addison replies and climbs into the Impala. Sam shoves his hands into his jacket pocket and gets into the passenger seat.


	11. Scarecrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, but I own the original characters.

The ringing cell phone wakes Sam. “Dean." he tiredly says. He looks over to see his brother and Addison still sleeping. Daylight was sneaking in under the curtains told him it was early in the morning. He grabs the phone off the nightstand. "Hello?"

"Sam, is that you?"

Sam sits up, fully awake. "Dad? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," John replies.

"We've been looking for you everywhere. We didn't know where you were, if you were okay."

"Sammy, I'm all right. What about you, Dean, and Addison?"

"We're fine. Dad, where are you?" Sam barely notices that Dean has sat up.

"Sorry, kiddo, I can't tell you that."

Sam tenses. "What? Why not?"

"Is that Dad," Dean asks and Sam ignores him.

"Look, I know this is hard for you to understand. You're just gonna have to trust me on this," John says.

"You're after it, aren't you? The thing that killed mom," Sam responds.

"Yeah. It's a demon, Sam."

"A demon? You know for sure?"

"A demon," Dean repeats. "What's he saying?"

"I do. Listen, Sammy, I, uh, I also know what happened to your girlfriend. I'm so sorry. I would've done anything to protect you from that," John replies.

"You know where it is," Sam asks.

"Yeah, I think I'm finally closing in on it."

"Let us help."

"You can't. You can't be any part of it."

"Why not?"

"Give me the phone," Dean demands.

"Listen, Sammy, that's why I'm calling. You, your brother, and Addison, you gotta stop looking for me. Alright, now, I need you to write down these names," John says.

"Names? What names, Dad — talk to me, tell me what's going on," Sam tells him.

"Look, we don't have time for this. This is bigger than you think, they're everywhere. Even us talking right now, it's not safe."

"No. All right? No way."

"Give me the phone," Dean sternly repeats.

"I have given you an order. Now, you stop following me, and you do your job. You understand me? Now, take down these names," John angrily says.

Dean snatches the phone out of Sam's hand. "Dad, it's me. Where are you? Yes, yeah, I got a pen. What are their names?”

* * *

Addison closes her laptop. The three of them were in the Impala. Sam was driving with Dean in the front seat and Addison in the backseat. “All right, so the names Dad gave us, they're all couples," Sam asks.

"Yeah, three different couples that all went missing," Addison replies.

"And they're all from different towns? Different states?"

"That's right," Dean answers. "You got Washington, New York, Colorado. Each couple took a road trip cross country. None of them arrived at their destination, and none of them were ever heard from again."

"Well, it's a big country, Dean. They could've disappeared anywhere."

"Yeah, except each couple's route took them through the same part of Indiana. It was always on the second week of April. And one year right after another," Addison counters.

"This is the second week of April."

"Uh huh."

"So, Dad is sending us to Indiana to go hunting for something before another couple vanishes?"

"Yahtzee. Can you imagine putting together a pattern like this? All the different obits Dad had to go through? The man's a master," Dean comments. Sam pulls the Impala of the road and parks. "What are you doing?"

"We're not going to Indiana."

Addison and Dean exchange a confused look. "We're not," she asks.

"No. We're going to California. Dad called from a pay phone. Sacramento area code."

"Sam," Dean says.

"Dean, if this demon killed Mom and Jess, and Dad's closing in, we've gotta be there. We've gotta help."

Dean shakes his head. ”Dad doesn't want our help."

"I don't care," Sam snaps.

"He's given us an order."

"I don't care. We don't always have to do what he says."

"Sam, John is asking us to work jobs, to save lives and that's pretty damn important," Addison argues.

“All right, I understand, believe me, I understand. But I'm talking one week here, to get answers. To get revenge."

“All right, look, I know how you feel," Dean says.

"Do you," Sam angrily counters. "How old were you when Mom died? Four? Jess died six months ago. How the hell would know how I feel?"

"Dad said it wasn't safe. For any of us. I mean, he obviously knows something that we don't, so if he says to stay away, we stay away."

"I don't understand the blind faith you two have in the man. I mean, it's like neither of you don't even question him."

"Yeah, it's called being a good son!" Sam pulls the Impala over to the side of the road and angrily climbs out. Dean and Addison quickly follow. They see him gathering his things from the trunk. "You're a selfish bastard, you know that? You just do whatever you want. Don't care what anybody thinks."

"That's what you really think?"

"Yes, it is."

"Well, then this selfish bastard is going to California." Sam shoulders his backpack and starts walking away.

"Sam, you can't be serious," Addison asks.

"I am serious."

"It's the middle of the night," Dean shouts. "Hey, we're taking off, we will leave your ass, you hear me?"

"That's what I want you to do," Sam replies.

"Goodbye, Sam," Dean says after a moment and climbs into the Impala. Addison gives Sam an apologetic look and gets into the passenger seat. Dean turns on the Impala and speeds off down the road.

* * *

Dean parks the Impala. Addison pulls her hair into a ponytail and watches as he stares at his cell phone. "Dean, stop being a girl and just call him," she says and Dean glares at her.

"He's the one who left."

"I know. I was there. But you can also be the bigger man here and call him."

Dean snaps his phone shut and gets out of the chair. Addison shakes her head and follows. The town was small and looked to be one right off a postcard. They walk to a café and see a man sitting on the porch. "Let me guess. Scotty."

"Yep," Scotty replies.

"Hi, my name's John Bonham and this is my wife, Zoe."

"Isn't that the drummer for Led Zeppelin?"

"Wow. Good. Classic rock fan."

"What can I do for you, John and Zoe?"

Addison pulls a couple flyers from her hoodie pocket. "We were wondering if you had seen these people," she asks, showing Scotty the flyers.

"Nope. Who are they?"

"Friends of ours who went missing about a year ago. They passed through somewhere around here and we've already asked around Scottsburg and Salem—"

"Sorry," Scotty interrupts. "We don't get many strangers around here."

"Scotty, you've got a smile that lights up a room, anybody ever tell you that," Dean asks and Scotty stares at him. Dean chuckles. "Never mind. See you around."

Dean throws an arm around Addison's shoulders and pulls her close. "He knows something," she quietly says.

"You got that vibe too, huh?"

"Big time.”

* * *

Addison hated when people lied to her. Her and Dean were standing in a small general store with Harley and Stacy, the owners of the store. "You sure they didn't stop for gas or something," Dean asks.

"Nope, don't remember them. You said they were friends of yours," Harley asks, handing the flyer to Stacy.

"That's right."

A girl a couple of years younger than them enters the store from a back room. She puts down a couple of boxes she was carrying. "Did the guy have a tattoo?"

"Yeah, he did," Addison replies, noticing the necklace around the girl's neck.

"You remember? They were just married," Emily says.

"You're right," Harley replies. "They did stop for gas. Weren't here more than ten minutes."

"You remember anything else," Dean asks.

"I told them how to get back to the Interstate. They left town." 

"Could you point us in that same direction?"

Emily smiles. ”Sure."

* * *

"I hate this town," Addison comments as Dean drives down the road. They pass an orchard and a noise comes from the backseat.

"What the hell," Dean asks. Addison leans over the seat and searches through the gear in the backseat. Dean smirks and smacks her ass. She slaps him on the back of the head.

Addison pulls out the EMF meter and sits back down. Dean pulls the Impala over and they get out. "I feel like this is a horror movie waiting to happen."

"Well something made that go off." They enter the orchard and walk around. Dean sees a scarecrow and walks over to it. "Dude, you fugly."

"If it comes alive and tries to kill us, you're on your own," Addison comments. Dean grabs a nearby ladder and puts it front of the scarecrow. "What are you doing?"

Dean climbs up the ladder and pushes the clothing up. "Let me see flyer." Addison unfolds a piece of paper and hands it to him. He compares the picture with the scarecrow's arm. "Nice tat.”

* * *

The Impala pulls up to the gas station and they climb out. Addison pulls her jacket close as it starts to rain. Emily was standing by the gas pumps. "You're back," she states.

"Never left," Dean replies.

"Still looking for your friends?"

"Yeah," Addison answers.

"You mind filling her up there, Emily," Dean asks and Emily grabs a gas pump. "So, you grew up here?"

"I came here when I was thirteen. I lost my parents. Car accident. My aunt and uncle took me in."

"Well, they're nice people," Addison comments.

"Everybody's nice here."

"So, what, it's the, uh, perfect little town," Dean asks.

Emily shrugs. "Well, you know, it's the boonies. But I love it. I mean, the towns around us, people are losing their homes, their farms. But here it's almost like we're blessed."

"Hey, you been out to the orchard? You seen that scarecrow?"

"Yeah, it creeps me out."

"Whose is it?"

"I don't know. It's just always been there."

"Is that your aunt and uncle's," Addison asks, motioning to a van.

"Customer. Had some car troubles."

"Does it belong to a couple? A guy and girl?" Emily nods. Addison and Dean exchange a concerned look, neither liking the thought.

* * *

Addison follows Dean into Scotty's Café. A couple was sitting at a table, eating pie. "Oh, hey, Scotty. Can we get a couple cups of coffee, black," Dean asks and Scotty walks away. "Oh, and some of that pie, too, while you're at it." He and Addison sit down at the next able. "How ya doing? Just passing through?"

"Road trip," the girl answers.

"Hey, us too," Addison brightly replies.

Scotty walks over and refills the couple's glasses. "I'm sure these people want to eat in peace."

"Just a little friendly conversation," Dean counters and Scotty leaves. "Oh, and that coffee, too, man. Thanks."

"So, why are you here," Addison asks the couple.

"We just stopped for gas. And, uh, the guy at the gas station saved our lives," the girl says.

"Oh no. What happened?"

"One of our brake lines was leaking," the man answers. "We had no idea. He was fixing it for us."

"The people here are so nice."

"Yeah."

"So, how long till you're up and running," Dean asks.

"Sundown."

"Really? To fix a brake line?" The man nods. "I mean, you know, I know a thing or two about cars. I could probably have you up and running in about an hour. I wouldn't charge you anything."

"You know, thanks a lot, but I think we'd rather have a mechanic do it," the girl says.

"Sure. I know. You know, it's just that these roads. They're not real safe at night."

"I'm sorry."

Addison kicks Dean under the table and glares at him. "I know it sounds strange, but, uh — you might be in danger," Dean continues, ignoring Addison.

"Look, we're trying to eat. Okay," the man tells them.

"We understand," Addison apologetically says.

"You know, my brother could give you this puppy dog look, and you'd just buy right into it," Dean comments.

The door opens and Addison sees Scotty walk over to greet a man. "Thanks for coming, Sheriff."

Scotty says something to the Sheriff and they both look at them. The Sheriff walks over. "I'd like a word, please."

"Come on. I'm having a bad day already," Dean says.

"You know what would make it worse," the Sheriff asks and Dean nods. Addison tensely smiles as she and Dean stand up.

* * *

The moment the sheriff's car isn't in the rearview mirror, Dean stops the Impala and turns around. Addison punches him in the arm. "What was that for?"

"For not knowing when to shut up," Addison answers.

Dean hits her back. "That's for kicking me earlier."

"I wouldn't had to do that if you knew when to shut up. FYI, when we get to the orchard, you're going by yourself."

"You're kidding."

"Why would I be kidding, Dean? In case you haven't noticed, we're kinda the monster in the orchard's type." Dean nods after a moment. "Good. Cause I'd rather not die.”

* * *

"The scarecrow climbed off its cross," Sam disbelievingly asks over the phone. Addison and Dean were sitting in the Impala the next morning. She held her phone between the two of them. Addison had decided to put an end to the fight between the brothers by calling Sam. And she felt reassured knowing that Sam was okay.

"Yeah, I'm telling ya. Burkitsville, Indiana. Fun town," Dean replies.

"It didn't kill the couple, did it?"

"No. We can cope without you, you know."

"So, something must be animating it. A spirit."

"I doubt it," Addison replies. "It's probably a Pagan god."

"What makes you say that?"

"The cycle of killings. Along with the victims always being a man and a woman. Could be some kind of fertility right. And the locals, they were treating the couple, giving them food."

"The last meal. Given to sacrificial victims."

"Yeah. So, it's probably some ritual sacrifice to make a Pagan god happy."

"So, a god possesses the scarecrow—"

"Scarecrow takes the sacrifice. Then for another year, crops won't wilt and disease won't spread."

"Do you know which god you're dealing with?"

"No, not yet," Dean answers.

"Well, you figure out what it is, you can figure out a way to kill it."

"We know. We're actually on our way to a local community college. We've got an appointment with a professor. Cause Addison isn't sure with Pagan god it could be."

"There's way too many gods to pick from," Addison counters. "And you never help with research, Dean."

"You know, if you're hinting you need my help, just ask." Sam says.

"Actually, uh — I want you to know…I mean, don't think…" Dean trails off.

"Yeah. I'm sorry, too."

"Sam. You were right. You gotta do your own thing. You gotta live your own life."

"Are you serious?"

"You've always known what you want. And you go after it. You stand up to Dad. And you always have. Hell, I wish I — anyway…I admire that about you. I'm proud of you, Sammy."

"I don't even know what to say."

"Say you'll take care of yourself."

"I will."

"Call us when you find Dad."

"Okay. Bye, Dean. Bye, Ads."

"Bye," Addison softly says and hangs up.

"You're not gonna cry, are you," Dean asks and Addison stares at him. “All right, I miss him too.”

* * *

Addison grabs Dean's arm as they walk down the hallway to the professor's office. "What," he asks, looking at her.

"You go ahead. I gotta use the bathroom," Addison explains.

"You can't hold it for five minutes," Dean argues and Addison glares at him. He shrugs. "Well, you've been extra bitchy this week."

"You know, Dean, one day I'm gonna shoot you and actually enjoy it," Addison hisses, then walks into the bathroom. As she's washing her hands, she hears loud voices from outside and moves towards the door.

"He wasn't alone before," the Sheriff says. "There was a girl with him. Red hair."

"Well, he's alone now," another man replies. "We'll just have to find someone to go with him. It shouldn't be that hard."

"Shit," Addison mutters as the voices leave. Cautiously, she makes her way out of the bathroom and out of the building. She ducks behind some bushes, after seeing the Burkitsville police car. Addison silently watches as the Sheriff and a man put in an unconscious Dean in the back of the car. It's late in the afternoon when Addison finally makes it back to Burkitsville. She doesn't hear someone walk up behind, but she feels the hard end of something hitting the back of her head.

* * *

Addison was pissed. Being knocked out for the second time in less than week, tended to make you annoyed. She had woken up in a cellar with Dean and Emily. Dean had filled her in on what he had learned. "I don't understand. They're gonna kill us," Emily asks.

"Sacrifice us. Which is, I don't know, classier, I guess," Dean replies and looks at her. "You really didn't know anything about this, did you?"

"About what? The scarecrow god? I can't believe this."

"Hate to break it to you, but you need to start believing. And we're gonna need your help," Addison says.

"Okay."

"Now, we can destroy the scarecrow, but we gotta find the tree," Dean continues.

"What tree?"

"Really old. And the locals would treat it with a lot of respect. Like it was sacred," Addison explains.

"There was this one apple tree. The immigrants brought it over with them. They call it the First Tree."

"Is it in the orchard?"

"Yeah, but I don't know where?"

The cellar doors open and they look to see four people standing there. "It's time," Stacy says.

* * *

Addison glares as she's tied to one of the apple trees. Dean was being tied to the tree next to her and Emily to a tree on the other side of him. "So, how many people have you killed," Addison loudly asks. "How much blood is on your hands?"

"We don't kill them," the Sheriff replies.

"No, but you sure cover up after," Dean coldly counters. "I mean, how many cars have you hidden, clothes have you buried?"

"Uncle Harley, please," Emily begs.

"I am so sorry, Em. I wish it wasn't you," Harley replies.

"Try to understand. It's our responsibility. And there's just no other choice. There's nobody else but you," Stacy says.

"I'm your family," Emily counters.

"Sweetheart, that's what sacrifice means. Giving up something you love for the greater good. The town needs to be safe. The good of the many outweighs the good of the one," Stacy explains. She and the other three people walk away.

"I hope your apple pie is fucking worth it," Dean shouts.

"Dean, please tell me you have a plan," Addison asks.

"I'm working on it.”

* * *

"Dean," Addison says. Night had fallen over them. She was starting to get cold. And part of her was growing nervous, but she refused to let it show. "You don't have a plan, do you?"

"I'm working on it," Dean replies and she doesn't miss the panic in his voice. "Can you see it?"

Addison glances over her shoulder, but all she can make out are trees. "No. How about you, Emily?"

"What," Emily nervously asks.

"Is he moving yet," Dean asks.

"I can't see." A shadow gets her attention. "Oh my God." Dean struggles to get rid of the ropes around his wrists. "Oh my God!"

"Dean?" Addison looks to see Sam standing next to the tree Dean was tied to.

"Oh! Oh, I take everything back I said. I'm so happy to see you. Come on," Dean says and Sam starts untying Dean. "How'd you get here?"

"I, uh, I stole a car."

"Haha! That's my boy! And keep an eye on that scarecrow. He could come alive any minute."

"What scarecrow?" Dean quickly stands up and sees the empty post. He goes to Addison while Sam goes to Emily and within in minutes, they're running through the orchard. Dean had explained to Sam what they had learned since they last talked. “All right, now, this sacred tree you're talking about—"

"It's the source of its power."

"So, let's find it and burn it."

"We'll do it in the morning," Addison says. "Let's just get the hell out of her before Leather Face shows up." They reach a clearing and see people blocking them. "This way." They turn, only to see more people.

"Please. Let us go," Emily tearfully begs.

"It'll be over quickly, I promise," Harley says.

"Please."

"Emily, you have to let him take you. You have to—" Harley is cut off when something is shoved into his stomach. Addison takes a step back as people scream. The scarecrow grabs Stacy and drags her away with Harley. The group of people scatters.

"Come on, let's go," Dean says and the four of them take off running. They reach the entrance and stop to look back at the dark orchard.

* * *

Addison waves to Emily as she climbs onto the bus. They spent the morning burning the tree before driving to the bus station. "Think she's gonna be all right," Sam asks.

"I hope so," Dean replies.

"And the rest of the townspeople, they'll just get away with it?"

"I think what's going to happen to the town will be punishment enough," Addison comments.

"So, can we drop you off somewhere," Dean asks as they walk to the Impala.

"No, I think you're both stuck with me," Sam tells them.

"What made you change your mind?"

"I didn't. I still wanna find Dad. And you're still a pain in the ass. But Jess and Mom — they're both gone. Dad is God knows where. The three of us. We're all that's left. So, if we're gonna see this through, we're gonna do it together."

"Hold me, Sam. That was beautiful."

"You should be kissing my ass, you were dead meat, dude."

"Yeah, right. I had a plan, I'd have gotten out."

"Bullshit," Addison amusedly replies. They laugh and get into the Impala.


	12. Faith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

“What do you got those amped up?” Sam asks as Dean hands him and Addison each a taser. They were standing outside an abandoned house, next to the Impala. It was a cold night and Addison pulls her peacoat close. Being in the middle of nowhere with the wind blowing wasn’t exactly making things better for any of them.

“A hundred thousand volts.” Dean answers.

“That’s a lot, Dean,” Addison says, concerned at the large amount of voltage the voltage the taser was charged to.

“Yeah, well, I want this raw head extra fucking crispy. And remember, you only get one shot with these things. So make it count.”

Addison nods and grabs a flashlight before the three of them enter the abandoned house. Not finding anything upstairs, they make their way down to the basement. A noise gets their attention and they see a cupboard. “On three,” Dean whispers. “One. Two. Three.” Dean yanks opens the cupboard door and they find two children huddled together inside.

“Is is still here?” Addison asks and the children nod.

“Okay. Grab your sister’s hand, come on, we gotta get your of here. Let’s go, let’s go.” Sam leads the children out with Addison and Dean bringing up the rear. A hand reaches out through the stairs and grabs Addison’s ankle, causing her to fall face first onto the stairs. “Ads!” Dean races down the stairs and fires the taser at the raw head, but misses. “Sam, get them outta here!”

Dean moves back over to Addison and helps her stand. She hands him the taser. “Be careful,” she tells him, then makes her way out of the house. She finds Sam wrapping blankets around the children. “Are they okay?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Sam answers. He looks her over. “You?”

Addison shoots him a smile. “I’m fine.” When Dean does emerge from the house a few minutes later, Sam goes back in and searches for his older brother. Addison grows worried as she waits and horror fills her when she sees Sam dragging an unconscious Dean out of the house.

* * *

Addison was terrified. She hadn’t been this scared since she had lost her father years ago. She had barely paid any attention to what was going on around her, until she saw the doctor emerge. She jumps up and makes her way over to him. “How is he,” she asks, not noticing that Sam had followed her.

“He’s resting,” the doctor answers.

“And,” Sam pushes, wrapping a comforting arm around Addison’s shoulders.

“The electrocution triggered a heart attack. Pretty massive, I’m afraid. His heart — it’s damaged.”

“How — how damaged,” Addison softly asks, trying to hold back the tears.

“We’ve done all we can. We can try and keep him comfortable at this point. But, I’d give him a couple weeks, at most, maybe a month.”

“There has to be something. Any kind of treatment or put him on the transplant list or something.”

“We can’t work miracles. I really am sorry,” the doctor tells them, then walks away.

Sam pulls her against his chest and rubs her back as he ignores his own tears. “I’ll figure something out. I promise.”

* * *

Sam enters the hospital room with Addison. He gives her hand a reassuring squeeze when he hears her choked sob. Dean was lying in the bed. He was pale and had dark circles under his eyes. “Have you guys ever actually watched daytime TV? It’s terrible,” Dean weakly says.

“We talked to your doctor,” Sam says, moving closer to his older brother.

“That fabric softener teddy bear. Oh, I’m gonna hunt that little bitch down.”

“Dean.”

Dean turns off the TV and looks at his younger brother. “All right, well, looks like you’re both gonna leave town without me.”

“What are you talking about? We’re not gonna leave you here.”

“Hey, you better take car of Baby. Or, I swear, I’ll haunt your asses.”

“That isn’t funny, Dean,” Addison snaps.

“Oh, come on, it’s a little funny.” They stare at him with unamused looks. “Look, Sammy, Ads, what can I say, man, it’s a dangerous gig. I drew the short straw. That’s it, end of story.”

“Don’t talk like that, all right,” Sam angrily tells him. “We still have options.”

“What options? Yeah, burial or cremation. And I know it’s not easy. But I’m gonna die. And neither of you can’t stop it.”

“Watch me,” Sam tells him, then walks out of the hospital room.

Dean sighs and looks at Addison, with a waiting look. She kicks off her Conserves and climbs onto the bed. “You’re not gonna die,” she softly says, resting her head over his heart. “And even if you were, you’re not dying alone.” Dean shifts and wraps an arm around Addison’s shoulders. Neither of them say anything as silence settles over them.

* * *

Addison climbs out of the Impala and runs around to help Dean. A few days had passed and Dean was slowly getting worse. She wraps an arm around his waist and he leans on her as they walk over to the door. Addison kicks the door a couple of times. Sam opens it and stares in disbelief at them. “What the hell are you doing here,” he demands.

“I checked myself out,” Dean replies as Addison helps him into the motel room.

“What? Are you crazy?”

“Well, I’m not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren’t even hot.”

“He gave me the same reason,” Addison comments as she and Sam help Dean sit on one of the beds.

“You know, this whole I-laugh-in-the-face-death thing? It’s bullshit. I can see right through it,” Sam says, closing the motel room door.

“Yeah, whatever, dude. Have you even slept? You look worse than me,” Dean tells him.

“I’ve been scouring the internet for the last three days. Calling every contact in Dad’s journal.”

“For what?”

“For a way to help you. One of Dad’s friends, Joshua, he called me back. Told me about a guy in Nebraska. A specialist.”

Dean shoots his brother an annoyed look. “You’re not gonna let me die in peace, are you?”

“I’m not gonna let you die, period. We’re going.”

* * *

Addison climbs out of the Impala. The field was filled with cars and people were heading towards a large white tent. An old farm house sat behind the tent. Addison rolls her eyes seeing the sign hanging from the tent entrance. ‘The Church of Roy LeGrange. Faith Healer. Witness the Miracle.’

“I got it,” Dean snaps. Addison turns to see him push Sam away as he climbs out of the Impala. “Man, you are a lying bastard. Thought you said we were going to see a doctor.”

“I believe I said a specialist,” Sam corrects.

Dean looks at Addison and she holds up her hands. “Hey, I had no idea,” she defends.

“Look, Dean, this guy’s supposed to be the real deal.”

“I can’t believe you brought me here to see some guy who heals people out of a tent,” Dean says.

A older woman walks by. “Reverend LeGrange is a great man.”

“Yeah, that’s nice.” The trio walk past a protester and a sheriff. “I take it he’s not part of the flock.”

“When people see something they can’t explain, there’s controversy,” Sam says.

“I mean, come on, Sam, a faith healer?”

“Maybe you should have a little faith, Dean,” Addison says.

“You know what I have faith in, Ads? Reality. Knowing what’s really going on.”

Addison raises an eyebrow. “And yet you’re a skeptic after all the shit we’ve seen?”

“Exactly. We see them, we know they’re real.”

“So, if evil is out there, then isn’t there something good? Something like this guy couldn’t possibility exist?”

“No. Because I’ve seen what evil does to good people.”

“Maybe God work in mysterious ways,” a voice comments and they turn to see a blonde woman a few years older than them.

“Maybe he does,” Dean replies, smirking. “I think you just turned me around on the subject.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Dean holds out his hand. “I’m Dean. This is Sam and Addison.”

“Layla,” the blonde says, shaking his hand. “So, if you’re a believer, then why are you here?”

“Well, apparently my brother and best friend here believe enough for us.”

“Come on, Layla. It’s about to start,” an older woman says, walking over to them. She places a protective hand on Layla’s shoulder. Layla shoots them a smile before walking into the tent.

“Well, I bet you she can work in some mysterious ways.”

“Even when you’re inches away from dropping dead, you’re still a man whore,” Addison comments, ignore the glare from Sam. “Come on, let’s go find some seats.”

They follow the crowd into the tent and Addison doesn’t miss the security cameras. “Yeah, peace, love, and trust all over,” Dean quietly comments and Addison sighs. Dean starts to sit down, but Sam grabs his arm. “What are you doing? Let’s sit here.”

“We’re sitting up front,” Sam argues, dragging his brother to the front of the tent.

“What? Why?”

“Come on.”

“Oh, come on, Sam. Ads, help me out here.” Addison shrugs and sits down in an empty chair. “This is ridiculous. I’m good, dude, get off me.” Dean sits down next to Addison, leaving Sam to sit behind them.

A man wearing sunglasses walks onto the stage with the help of the older woman they had seen earlier. “Each morning, my wife, Sue Ann, reads me the news. Never seems good does it,” Roy LeGrange says and murmurs of agreement go throughout the crowd. “Seems like there’s always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act.”

“I think he’s talking about you, Ads,” Dean whispers and Addison shoots him an annoyed look.

“But, I say to you, God is watching. God rewards the good and he punishes the corrupt. Who does the healing here, friends? The Lord who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into people’s hearts.”

“Yeah, or into their wallets."

Roy turns in Dean’s direction. “You think so, young man?”

A sheepish look crosses Dean’s face. “Sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t be. Just watch what you say around a blind man, we’ve got real sharp ears. What’s your name, son?”

“Dean.”

“Dean. I want — I want you to come up here with me.”

“No, that’s okay.”

Sam leans forward. “What are you doing?”

“You’ve come here to be healed, haven’t you,” Roy asks.

“Well, yeah, but — no, maybe you should just pick someone else,” Dean says.

“Oh, no, I didn’t pick you, Dean, the Lord did.”

The crowd cheers in agreement. “Get up there,” Sam excitedly tells him.

Addison watches as Dean reluctantly makes his way up to the stage. “You ready,” Roy asks him.

“Look, no disrespect, but I’m not exactly a believer,” Dean counters.

“You will be, son. You will be. Pray with me, friends,” Roy instructs. The crowd and Roy raise their hands in the air. Roy places a hand on Dean’s shoulder then moves it to his forehead.

Addison hovers over the vacant seat next to her. Her heart was pounding in her ears. She rushes up to the stage after Dean collapses, ignoring the clapping and cheering from the crowd. “Dean,” she says. Dean’s eyes open and he gasps for air. “Dean. Say something, say anything.”

* * *

The three of them are sitting in the exam room of a local hospital. After leaving the LeGranges, they had made their way to the nearest hospital. Dean was sitting on the exam bed while Addison and Sam stood on either side. “So, you really feel okay,” Sam asks.

“I feel fine, Sam,” Dean asks.

A nurse enters, carrying a file. “Well, according to all your tests, there’s nothing wrong with your heart. No sign there ever was,” the nurse explains. “Not that a man your age should be having heart trouble, but still, it’s strange when it does happen.”

“What do you mean, strange?”

“Well, just yesterday, a young guy like you, twenty-seven, athletic. Out of nowhere, heart attack.”

“Thank you,” Addison tells the nurse and watches as she leaves. “That’s strange all right.”

“Maybe it’s a coincidence. People’s hearts give out all the time,” Sam argues.

“No, they don’t.”

“Look, guys, do we really have to look this one in the mouth? Why can’t we just be thankful that the guy saved your life, Dean, and move on?”

“Because I can’t shake this feeling, that’s why,” Dean answers.

“What feeling?”

“When I was healed. I just — I felt wrong. I felt cold. And for a second, I saw someone. This, uh, this old man. And I’m telling you, Sam, it was a spirit.”

“But if there was something there, Dean, I think Addison and me would’ve seen it too. I mean, we’ve been seeing an awful lot of strange things lately.”

“Well, excuse me, psychic wonder. But you’re just gonna need a little faith on this one. Sam, I’ve been hunting long enough to trust a feeling like this.”

“Yeah, all right,” Sam reluctantly agrees. “So, what do you wanna do?”

“I want you guys to check out the heart attack guy. I’m gonna visit the reverend.”

* * *

Addison pushes herself away from the all when Sam and a man walk out of the locker room. The man had known the heart attack victim. She had spent a large amount of time staring at the clock across from her. “I’m telling you, he seemed healthy. Swam every day, didn’t smoke. So, a heart attack just kind of seemed, well, bizarre,” the man explains.

“And you said he was running, right before he collapsed,” Sam asks.

“Yeah, yeah, he was freaking out. He said that something was, uh, was after him.”

“Did he say what?”

“Well, thin air is what. I mean, it wasn’t anything.”

“All right, thanks.”

“Your clock is broken,” Addison comments.

“Oh, yeah, we, uh, can’t get it working. Just froze at 4:17.”

“Is that when Marshall died?”

The man stares at her. “How’d you know?”

“Lucky guess,” Addison lies. She smiles at the man and pulls Sam out of the gym. “I think I have an idea of what happened.”

* * *

Dean enters the motel room to find Sam sitting at the table with an upset look on his face. Addison was lying on one of the beds, flipping through the channels on the TV. “What’d you find out,” he asks, shrugging off his leather jacket.

“I’m sorry,” Sam tells him.

Dean frowns. “Sorry about what?”

“Marshall Hall died at 4:17,” Addison answers.

Realization crosses Dean’s face. “The exact time I was healed.”

Sam nods. “Yeah. So, I put together a list of everyone Roy’s healed, six people over the past year and I cross checked them with the local obits. Every time someone was healed, someone else died. And each time, the victim died of the same symptom LeGrange was healing at the time.”

“Someone’s healed of cancer, someone else dies of cancer?”

“Somehow. LeGrange — he’s trading a life for another.”

“Wait, wait, wait. So Marshall Hall died to save me?”

Sam shifts. “Dean, the guy probably would’ve died anyway. And someone else would’ve been healed.”

Dean shakes his head. “You never should’ve brought me here.”

“Dean, I was just trying to save your life.”

“Sam, some guy is dead now because of me.”

“I didn’t know,” Sam defends. “The thing I don’t understand is how Roy is doing it? How’s he trading a life for a life?”

“Roy isn’t the one actually doing it,” Addison says, sitting up.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a reaper.”

Sam frowns. “You really think it’s the Grim Reaper? Like, angel of death, collect your soul, the whole deal?”

“No. Just a reaper. Almost every culture on Earth has some kind of reaper lore and all of them go by a different name. There’s probably more than one.”

“But Dean said he saw a dude in a suit.”

“Sam, they’re not going to be doing the whole back robe thing,” Addison agrees, standing up. She walks over to the table and searches through the stack of papers on the table. She finds one and drops it on Sam’s laptop. “Reapers can stop time. And you can’t see them unless they’re gunning for you. The only question is how in the hell is Roy controlling i?”

“That cross.”

“What,” Dean and Addison asks.

“There was this cross. I noticed it in the church tent, I knew I had seen it before.” Sam searches through the cards and pulls one out. “Here.”

“Tarot,” Dean disbelievingly asks.

“It makes sense. I mean, tarot dates back to the early Christian era, right? When some priests were still using magic,” Sam asks and Addison nods. “And a few of them veered into the dark stuff. Necromancy and how to push death away, how to cause it.”

“So, Roy is using black magic to bind the reaper?”

“If he somehow is, that’s like putting a leash on a Great White,” Addison says.

Dean nods. “Okay, then we stop Roy.”

“How,” Sam asks.

“You know how.”

“Dean, we are not going to kill Roy,” Addison says.

“Ads, the guys playing God, he’s deciding who lives and who dies, that’s a monster in my book.”

“And if we kill him, then we’re doing the exact same thing.”

“Okay, so we can’t kill Roy, we can’t kill death. Any bright ideas, Miss Yale?”

“If Roy is using some kind of black spell on the reaper, we’ve gotta figure out what it is. And how to break it,” Sam comments and Addison smirks at Dean.

* * *

The three of them pull up to the church and climb out of the Impala. The parking lot was full of cars for the next service. Addison pulls her leather jacket close. “If Roy is using a spell, there might be a spell book,” Sam says.

“See if you can find it,” Dean replies, checking his watch. “Hurry up, too, the service starts in fifteen minutes. Ads and me will try to stall Roy.”

“All right.”

They walk past the protester from the other day. “Roy LeGrange is a fraud. He’s no healer.”

“Amen, brother,” Dean tells him.

“You keep up the good word,” Sam says.

Addison smiles at the man and follows Dean into the tent. They stand in the back, trying to blend in with the crowd. Her cell phone rings and she takes it out. “Hey, whatcha got,” she asks.

“Roy’s choosing victims he sees as immoral. And I think I know who’s next on his list. Remember the protester,” Sam says.

“The guy in the parking lot?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll find him. But you and Dean can’t let Roy heal anyone, all right?”

“Yeah,” Addison replies and hangs up her cell. She looks at Dean. “We need to make a hell of a distraction.”

“Layla. Layla Rourke, come up here, child,” Roy says.

“Oh, man,” Dean mutters. “Stay here.”

Addison remains silent as Dean walks up to the stage. He takes with Layla and an upset look appears on Dean’s face as Layla walks onto the stage. Addison takes a deep breath. “Fire,” she shouts. “Hey, tent’s on fire! Fire! Everybody get out!” She quickly moves out of the way as people rush out of the tent. Addison takes out her phone and dials Sam. “I stopped Roy.”

“Ads, it didn’t work! The reaper’s still coming,” Sam yells. “I’m telling you it must not have worked. Roy must not be controlling this thing!”

Addison looks around the tent. She couldn’t see Dean, but her gaze lands on where Sue Ann was standing in a corner. She walks over to Sue Ann and clears her throat. The older woman was clutching a cross identical to one on the tarot card. Sue Ann tucks the cross inside her shirt. “Help! Help me! Help,” Sue Ann screams. Addison turns as two police officers quickly appear. They pull her out of the tent, with Sue Ann following them. “I just don’t understand. After everything we’ve done for you, after Roy healed your friend. We’re very, very disappointed. You can let her go, I’m not gonna press charges. The Lord will deal with her as he sees fit.”

“We catch you around here again, we’ll put the fear of God in you, understand,” a police officer says after Sue Ann leaves.

“Absolutely,” Addison replies and walks over to where the boys were waiting. Both had amused looks on their faces and she rolls her eyes. “Can we go now?”

* * *

“So Roy really believes,” Sam asks, as they sit around the motel room. They had rehashed everything they had learned earlier that evening. The brothers were sitting at the table while Addison was stretched out on one of the beds.

“I doubt he knows what Sue Ann is doing,” Addison replies.

“Well, I found this hidden in their library.” Addison sits up as Sam hands him a small black book. “It’s ancient. Written by a priest who went dark side. There’s a binding spell in here for a trapping a reaper.”

“Must be hell of a spell,” Dean comments, flipping through the book.

“Yeah. You’ve got to build a black altar, with seriously dark stuff. Bones, human blood. to cross a line like that, that preachers wife. Black magic, murder. Evil.”

“Well, she was desperate,” Addison says. “Her husband was dying. And she would’ve done anything to save him. So, she decided to use a binding spell to force the reaper to stay away from Roy.”

“Cheating death. Literally.”

“Yeah, but Roy’s alive, so why’s she still using the spell,” Dean asks, sitting down on Addison’s bed. She looks over his shoulder to look at the spell book.

“Right. To force the reaper to kill people she thinks are immoral.”

Dean shakes his head. “May God eve us from half the people who think they’re doing God’s work.”

“We’ve gotta break that binding spell, guys.”

Addison grabs the book out of Dean’s hands. She looks through and stops when she recognizes one of the pictures. “Sue Ann had a cross exactly like this,” she tells them, showing Dean the picture. “When she dropped it, the reaper backed off.”

“So, you think we’ve gotta find the cross or destroy the altar?”

“Both,” Addison answers and notices the annoyed look on their faces. “It’s better to be safe.”

“Whatever we do, we better do it soon,” Dean says, standing up. “Roy’s healing Layla tonight.”

* * *

They arrive at the church to find the parking lot filled with cars. They climb out of the Impala and look around. Sam points out a plain sedan across the parking lot. “That’s Layla’s car. She’s already here.” Sam states.

“Yeah.” Dean sadly replies, causing Addison to look at him.

Addison sighs. “Dean—”

“You know, if Roy would have picked Layla instead of me, she’d be healed right now.”

“Dean, don’t.”

“And if she’s not healed tonight, she’s gonna die in a couple of months.”

“Dean, what’s happening to her is horrible. But what are we supposed to do? Let someone else die so she can live? We can’t play God.”

Dean doesn’t reply, choosing to walk into the tent with Sam and Addison following him. They enter the tent to see Layla walk onto the stage and stand next to Roy. “Where’s Sue Ann?”

“House.” Sam answers and they rush out of the tent.

Addison stops and grabs Dean’s arm. “Sam, you find Sue Ann. And if you find the alter, destroy it. We’ll catch up with you.”

Sam nods and runs off. “You’re hot when you get bossy.” Dean comments.

Addison rolls her eyes. “Just find us some place to hide.” she tells him, pushing him away. She walks to the front of the house and sees the two police officers from earlier standing there. “Hello, officers.” They turn and she smiles at them. “Are you still gonna put that fear of God in me?” Addison takes off running with the officers following her. An arm reaches out and grabs her.

Dean covers her mouth as the officers run past their hiding spot. “Roof.” he whispers. Quietly, they each climb up the ladder of the RV. They remain silent until they know that the officers are no longer around. “Good distraction.”

“Thank you.” Addison replies. She climbs down the ladder and moves out of the way for Dean. They start walking back towards the house, but she stops when the streetlights turn off one by one. The hairs on the back of her neck stand up and she turns to see a pale man wearing a suit. “Dean.”

He looks at her. “Ads?” She backs into him as the reaper gets closer. “It’s not the reaper, is it?” Addison groans in pain. She wraps an arm around her waist as the reaper moves towards her. “Addison!” She falls to her knees, gasping for air. Addison stares up at the reaper as he places a cold hand on her face. “Shit!” Dean kneels in front of her. He cups her face as she starts to grow pale. “You’re not going to die, okay. I’m not gonna let you die, Ads.” Dean watches as her eyes struggle to stay open. “No, no, no, no!” Addison takes a gasping breath and he frowns. “Ads?”

“It’s gone.” Addison pants. She buries her face in his chest. “It’s gone.”

Dean scoops her up and walks over to the Impala. Sam was standing by the Impala and concern fills him when he sees Addison. “She okay?”

“I’m fine.” Addison softly answers.

“Did you…” Dean trails off.

“Yeah. It, um, it took Sue Ann.” Sam tells them. Dean nods and motions for Sam to open the passenger door. He climbs in, not loosening on his grip on Addison. Dean looks at her and she was still pale, but slowly gaining back her color. He cups the back of her head and rests his cheek on the top. He doesn’t say anything when he feels a wetness on his neck.

* * *

Inserting the dollar into the vending machine was easy. Fighting the urge to go look for Addison was hard. Sam randomly presses a button and the can come out of the bottom. He and Dean had been worried when they woke up to find her gone. The note she left did relive their worry a bit, but not by much. “You’re going to get me one, right?”

Sam looks up to see Addison walking down the hallway. She wore a knee length black dress. Her hair fell in soft waves to her shoulders. “Hey. Where’d you go?” he asks, handing her the soda.

“Confession. Nothing like literally staring death in the face to make one want to confess mortal sins.”

“You should’ve told me. I would’ve went with you.”

Addison smiles. “No offense, Sam, but confession is a very private thing.” She places a comforting hand on his arm. “I always light candles for my parents afterwards…I lit one for Jessica for you.”

Sam pulls her into a tight embrace. “Thank you." 

“You’re welcome.”

* * *

Dean watches as her chest rises up and down. He would never admit to anyone, but he had been terrified of losing her. The knowledge that the reaper had her in his grasp was something he doubted would go away anytime soon. She had been by his side the entire time Sam had been at Stanford. He’s startled out of his thoughts when he feels a hand around wrap around him. He raises his gaze and sees the familiar look in Addison’s eyes. It was a look he had been on the receiving end more times than he could remember. 

Dean stares at her for a moment, then climbs out of bed and walks into the bathroom. He doesn’t shut the door all the way. He hears Addison climb out of bed and he turns as she enters the bathroom. She closes the door and there’s the soft click of the lock. Neither of them say anything. He watches as she slowly unbuttons the shirt she was wearing. Dean pulls her into a kiss and there’s nothing gentle about it. Months of frustration and desire spill out. He wouldn’t deny that he had missed this.

Addison shoves his boxer briefs down as his hand finds it way between her legs and she moans. She wraps her arms around his neck and he picks her up. Dean sets her on the counter. She lifts up and he yanks her black lace panties off. “Fuck.” Addison moans when he thrusts into her. It doesn’t take them long to settle into a familiar rhythm. Her nails rake down his back. Her head falls back as she climaxes. He pulls out of her and she slides off the counter. Dean spins her around and pulls the shirt she was wearing up before thrusting back into her.

His hand reaches up and grabs her breast. They gazes meet in the mirror and he watches as her hand touches her clit. He picks up his pace and groans when he climaxes. Dean’s hand replaces hers and he watches as she climaxes for a second time. The only sounds in the small bathroom are their heavy breathing. “What changed your mind?” Dean asks. She turns around and buries her face in his chest. Concern fills him when he feels a wetness on his chest. He lightly cups her face and presses his lips against hers.

Addison pulls back and leans against him. Dean’s hand lightly caresses her back. “I almost died today.” she softly says. “I — I stared death in face and…” He tightens his grip on her and presses a soft kiss to her head.


	13. Route 666

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, but I own the original characters.

“Okay, I think we found a way we can bypass that construction just east of here. We might even make it to Pennsylvania faster than we thought,” Sam says as Dean walks over to where he and Addison were standing by the Impala. They had stopped at a gas station to fill up and to figure out a different way to their next case.

“Yeah. Problem is, we’re not going to Pennsylvania,” Dean replies.

Addison frowns when he avoids looking at her. “What do you mean we’re not going to Pennsylvania?”

“Just got a call from an old friend. Her father was killed last night and she thinks it might be our kind of thing.”

“And…”

“Look, she never would’ve called, never, if she didn’t need us,” Dean snaps and climbs into the Impala. “Come on, you two coming or what?” Sam shoots Addison a confused look, but she rolls her eyes as they climb into the car.

* * *

“So, what exactly do you mean by old friend, Dean,” Sam asks, breaking the silence that had fallen over them during the drive. He glances in the side mirror and sees that Addison is staring out the window. She had been quiet ever since Dean had given them a bit more information about their new case.

“A friend that’s not new,” Dean answers, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

“So, her name’s Cassie, huh? You never mentioned her.”

“Didn’t I?”

“No.”

Dean shrugs. “Yeah, we went out.”

“You mean you dated someone? For more than one night?”

“Am I speaking a language that you’re not getting here? Yeah, we were working a job in Athens, Ohio. She was finishing up college and we went out for a couple weeks.”

“And?” Dean shakes his head. “Look, it’s terrible about her dad, but it kind of sounds like a standard car accident. I’m not seeing how it fits with what we do. Which, by the way, how does she know what we do?” Dean avoids his brother’s gaze and Sam tenses in realization. “You told her? The secret? Our big family rule number one, we do what we do and we shut up about it. For a year and a half I do nothing but lie to Jessica and you got out with this chick in Ohio a couple of times and you tell her everything? Dean!”

“Yeah, look like it,” Dean coldly says. Sam shakes his head in disbelief and looks out at the passing scenery.

* * *

Sam glances at Addison as they walk into the small-town newspaper officer. “Dean,” an African American woman greets, as she walks over to them. She was definitely Dean’s type. Gorgeous and with legs that went on for miles.

“Hey, Cassie,” Dean replies. Sam clears his throat. “This is my brother, Sam. And you remember Addison. I’m sorry about your dad.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

Later that night, the trio are sitting in the living room of Cassie’s mother’s house. Dean and Sam were sitting on the couch while Addison sat in an armchair. “My mother’s in pretty bad shape. I’ve been staying with her. I wish she would walk by herself; she’s been so nervous and frightened. She was worried about Dad,” Cassie explains as she pours a cup of tea for each of them.

“Why,” Dean questions.

“He was scared. He was seeing things.”

“What kind of things,” Addison asks.

“He swore he saw an awful looking black truck following him.”

“A truck? Who was the driver,” Sam asks.

“He didn’t talk about a driver. Just the truck. He said it would appear and disappear. And in the accident, Dad’s car was dented. Like it had been slammed into by something big,” Cassie says, handing them each a cup of tea.

“Thanks. Now, you’re sure this dent wasn’t there before?”

“He sold cars. Always drove a new one. I mean, there wasn’t a scratch on that thing. It had rained hard that night; there was a distinct set of muddy tracks from Dad’s car, leading right to the edge. Where he went over there was only one set of tracks — his.”

Dean nods. “And the first person killed was a friend of your father’s?”

“Best friend. Clayton Solmes. They owned the car dealership together. Same thing. Dent, no tracks. And the cops said exactly what they said about Dad — he lost control of his car.”

“Now, can you think of any reason why your father and his partner might be targets?”

“No.”

“So, this vanishing truck just ran him off the road,” Addison asks. Dean glares at her, but she pays him no attention.

Cassie sighs. “Oh, when you say it aloud like that…Listen, I’m a little skeptical about this…ghost stuff or whatever it is you guys are into.”

Dean scoffs. “Skeptical. Yeah, if I remember, I think you said I was nuts.”

“That was then.” Dean stares at her. “I just know that I can’t explain what happened up there, so I called you.” An older white woman walks into the living room. “Mom! Where have you been, I was so—”

“Oh. I had no idea you’d invited friends over,” Mrs. Robinson replies. The trio places their tea cups on the coffee table and stands.

“Uh, Mom, this Dean, a friend of mine from…college. And his brother, Sam and their friend, Addison.”

“Well, uh, I won’t interrupt you.” Mrs. Robin says, starting to walk out of the living room.

“Mrs. Robinson,” Dean calls and she looks at him. “We’re sorry for your loss. And we’d like to talk to you for a minute, if you don’t mind.”

“I’m really not up to that just now,” Mrs. Robinson coldly says and walks out of the room. Addison raises an eyebrow at the older woman’s behavior.

* * *

Addison, Dean, and Sam walks down the dock towards a table where two men were playing a game of checkers. “Excuse me, are you Ron Stubbins,” Dean asks. Sam glances between Dean and Addison. They had barely spoken that morning while they were getting ready. “You were friends with Jimmy Anderson?”

“Who are you,” Ron asks.

“We work for Mr. Anderson’s insurance company,” Addison explains, flashing a fake business card at them. “We’re just dealing with a couple of formalities.”

“We were just wondering if the deceased had mentioned any unusual recent experiences,” Sam asks.

Ron frowns. “What do you mean, unusual?”

“Well, visions, hallucinations.”

“It’s all part of a medical examination kind of thing, all very standard,” Dean explains.

“What company did you say you were with?”

“All National Mutual,” Dean answers, slightly taking out an envelope before shoving it back in his suit jacket. “Tell me, did he ever mention seeing a truck? A big, black truck?”

“What he hell are you talking about? You even speaking English?”

“Son, this truck — a big, scary, monster lookin’ thing,” the other man sitting at the table asks.

“Yeah, actually, I think so,” Dean replies. “Why?”

“I have heard of a truck like that.”

“Where,” Addison questions.

“Not where — when,” the man corrects. “Back in the sixties, there was a string of deaths. Black men. Story goes, they disappeared in a big, nasty black truck.”

“They ever catch the guy who did it,” Dean asks.

“Never found him. Hell, I’m not sure they even really looked. See, there was a time this town wasn’t too friendly to all its citizens,” the man explains, glaring at Ron.

“Thank you,” Sam says and they head in the direction of the Impala.

“Truck,” Dean says.

“Keeps coming up, doesn’t it?”

“You know what I was thinking? You head of the Flying Dutchman?”

“Yeah, a ghost ship infused with the captain’s evil spirit. Basically a part of him.”

“Yeah, so what if we’re dealing with the same thing? You know, a phantom truck that’s the extension of some bastard ghost, reenacting past crimes.”

“The victims have all been black men.”

“It’s more than that. They all seem connected to Cassie and her family.”

“You should go to her,” Addison says and the boys stare at her. “Hey, she may tell you something that she didn’t want to say in front of me and Sam. And you guys can deal with your unfinished business.”

“What is going on between you guys,” Sam asks, turning to his older brother.

“All right, so maybe we were a little bit more involved than I said,” Dean says and get two knowing stares. “Okay, a lot more. Maybe. And I told her the secret about what we do and I shouldn’t have.”

“No, look, man, everybody’s gotta open up to someone, sometime.”

“Yeah, I don’t. It was stupid to get that close and look how it ended.” Sam smiles, while Addison shakes her head. “Would you stop? Blink or something.”

“You loved her.”

“Oh, God.”

“You were in love with her, but you dumped her,” Sam says. Dean sighs and shakes his head. “Oh, wow. She—”

“Sam,” Addison snaps. She shoots him a look, clearly telling him to drop it. “Can we do the job or do you two need to be more of a woman than I am?”

* * *

“So, Dean didn’t come back last night.” Sam causally says as he and Addison walk towards the newest accident scene. He had heard about the accident while getting breakfast that morning. He had been worried about her. She hadn’t said a word when it became obvious that Dean wasn’t coming back to the room, instead she had buried herself in research.

Addison grabs his arm. “Whatever you’re thinking, Sam, stop it.”

“It’s just that you seem jealous.”

“Jealous?”

“And it’s oblivious that you don’t like Cassie.”

“I don’t like Cassie because of what she did to Dean. He’s my best friend and I don’t like to see him hurt like that. Me and Dean are just friends with occasional benefits. That’s all. So, can we do the job? Or do you want to know every single detail of our lives before you joined us?” Sam doesn’t say anything. “Good. Now did you call Dean or do I need to be the grown up and do that too?”

An hour later, Sam notices Dean walking towards the crime scene. “And he’s with me.” Sam tells the officer he was talking to. Addison was talking with a man wearing a white paper jumpsuit, but she had noticed Dean. “Where were you last night?” He smile when his older brother remains silent. “You didn’t make it back to the motel.”

“Nope.” Dean replies with a grin.

“I’m guessing you guys worked things out?”

“We’ll be working things out when we’re ninety.”

“Glad to see you that remember we have a case,” Addison greets joining them. “The ME’s assistant says that the Mayor was more than likely ran over by something.”

“Something like a truck,” Dean asks.

Addison stares at him. “No. What gave you that idea?”

“Whoa. The bitch is out this morning.”

“It’s seven in the fucking morning, I’m outside freezing my ass off, and have yet to have a morning cup of coffee. I have the right to be a bitch.”

Dean exchanges a look with Sam. “Okay. What was the Mayor doing here anyway?”

“He owned the property,” Sam explains. “Bought it a few weeks ago.”

“Yeah, but he’s white. He doesn’t fit the pattern.”

“The other were killed on the road. He wasn’t which doesn’t fit either,” Addison replies.

* * *

Dean gives Cassie a thankful smile as she hands him a cup of coffee. He was sitting next to Addison at a desk in the newsroom of the paper that Cassie worked at. Sam had left to go do research on his own and Dean hadn’t missed the pointed look his younger brother gave him. “Ads is good at finding links between things. She loves research,” Dean says, trying to break the awkward silence over the three of them. His cell phone rings and he lets out a relived sigh seeing Sam’s name. “Yeah?”

“Okay, the courthouse records show that Mr. and Mrs. Mayor bought an abandoned property. The previous owner was the Dorian family, for like, a hundred and fifty years,” Sam says.

Dean frowns. “Dorian?”

“Yeah?”

Dean looks at Cassie. “Didn’t you say the Dorian family used to own this paper?”

“Along with most everything else around here. Real pillars of the town,” Cassie explains.

Dean nods and leans toward Addison. “Look up the Dorians.” Addison types in the name and a series of articles appear. She clicks on the first one and headline reads: ‘Dorian Still Missing. Cyrus Dorian Missing For More Than a Week.’ “That’s interesting.”

“What?”

Dean presses his phone against Addison’s ear. “In April of 1963, a Cyrus Dorian disappeared. His case was investigated but wasn’t solved and it was right about the time that those murders happened,” Addison explains.

“Well, I pulled a bunch of papers up on the Dorian place, Ads. It must have been in bad shape when the mayor brought it. One of the first things he did was bulldoze the place.”

Addison frowns. “When did he tear it down?”

“Third of last month.”

Addison types in the date and another article appears. This one talking about a car accident that had happened. “The first death was the next day.”

* * *

Addison sits on the couch next to Dean while Cassie and her mother sit in a couple of arm chairs across from them. Sam hands Cassie a cup of tea and sits down on the other side of Addison. “Maybe you could throw a couple of shots in there,” Cassie jokes. The trio had rushed over to the Robinson house after Cassie had frantically called Dean and said that the truck had been there.

“You didn’t see who was driving the truck,” Dean asks.

Cassie shakes her head. “Seemed to be no one. Everything was moving so fast. And then it was just gone. Why didn’t it kill us?”

“Whoever’s controlling the truck wants you afraid first.”

“Mrs. Robinson, Cassie said that your husband saw the truck before he died,” Sam says. Mrs. Robinson remains silent.

“Mom,” Cassie asks.

Mrs. Robinson looks up and sees her daughter staring at her. “Oh, Martin was under a lot of stress. You can’t be sure what he was seeing.”

“Well, after tonight, I think we can be reasonably sure that he was seeing a truck. What happened tonight — you and Cassie are marked. Okay? And your daughter could die. So, if you know something, now would be a really good time to tell us about it,” Dean orders.

“Dean,” Cassie warns.

“Yes. Yes, he said he saw a truck,” Mrs. Robinson confesses.

“Did he know who it belonged to,” Sam questions.

“He thought he did.”

“Who was that,” Dean asks.

“Cyrus. A man named Cyrus.”

Addison pulls out the article she had printed off earlier and shows it to Mrs. Robinson. “Is this Cyrus?”

“Cyrus Dorian died more than forty years ago.”

“How do you know that, Mrs. Robinson? The local paper said he went missing.”

“We were all young. I dated Cyrus a while, but I was also seeing Martin. In secret, of course. Interracial couples didn’t go over too well then. When I broke it off with Cyrus and when he found out about Martin. I don’t know, he — he changed. His hatred — his hatred was frightening.”

“The string of murders,” Sam says.

“There were rumors. People of color disappearing in some kind of truck. But nothing was ever done. Martin and I, we were, uh going to be married in that little church near here. But last minute, we decided to elope, cause we didn’t want the attention.”

“And Cyrus,” Dean asks.

“The day we set for the wedding was…the day someone set fire to the church. There was a children’s choir practicing in there. They all died.”

“Did the attacks stop after that,” Addison questions.

“No. There was one more. One night, that truck came for Martin. Cyrus beat him something terrible. But Martin, you see, Martin got loose. And he started hitting Cyrus and he just kept hitting him and hitting him.”

“Why didn’t he call the cups,” Dean asks.

“This was forty years ago! He called on his friends, Clayton Solmes and Jimmy Anderson and they put Cyrus’ body into the truck and rolled it into the swamp at the edge of his land and all three of them kept that secret all these years!”

“And now all three are gone,” Sam says.

“So is Mayor Todd. Now, he said that you, of all people, would know that he is not a racist. Why would he say that,” Dean asks.

“He was a good man. He was a young deputy back then, investigation Cyrus’ disappearance. Once he figured out what Martin and the others had done he — he did nothing. Because he also knew what Cyrus had done,” Mrs. Robinson explains.

“Why didn’t you tell me,” Cassie softly asks.

“I thought I was protecting them. And now there’s no one left to protect.”

“Yes, there is,” Dean counters, his gaze going to Cassie and Mrs. Robinson grabs her daughter’s hand.

* * *

“My life was so simple. Just school. Exams. Papers on polycentric cultural norms,” Sam says as the trio waits by the Impala. The trio had retreated outside to give Cassie and her mother some privacy.

“So, I guess I saved you from a boring existence,” Dean replies.

“Sometimes boring is okay,” Addison comments.

“All right, so, this killer truck—”

“I miss conversations that didn’t start with ‘this killer,’” Sam interrupts.

“All right, well, this Cyrus guy…”

“Yeah.”

“Evil on a level that infect even his truck. And when he died, the swamp became his tomb and the spirit was dormant for forty years.”

“So, what woke it up?”

“The house being torn down,” Addison states.

Sam nods. “Right. Demolition or remodeling can awake spirits, make ‘em restless. Like that theater in Illinois.”

“And the Mayor, who tore down the house, is the same person who kept Cyrus’ murder unsolved.”

“So, now his spirit is awakened and out for blood.”

“Yeah, I guess. Who know what the fuck ghosts are thinking anyway,” Dean comments.

“You know we’re gonna have to dredge that body up form the swamp, right?”

“Hope you guys have fun doing that,” Addison amusedly says.

Dean looks at her. “And what the hell do you think you’re gonna be doing?”

“Supervising.”

“Bullshit,” Dean replies as Cassie joins them. He walks a couple of feet from the Impala. “Hey.”

“Hey. She’s asleep. Now what,” Cassie asks.

“Well, you stay put, and look after her. And we’ll be back. Don’t leave the house.”

“Don’t go getting authoritative on me. I hate it.”

“Don’t leave the house, please?” Cassie smiles and leans up to kiss him.

“We do have a killer truck to stop,” Addison loudly says.

Dean holds up a finger, then he pulls back. He smiles at Cassie before walking over and climbing in behind the wheel of his beloved car. “You guys coming or what?”

* * *

Addison stands by a table with the needed items, watching as Dean and Sam pull the truck out of the swamp. They get the truck out and Dean pries open the door to find the corpse of Cyrus Dorian. He and Sam pull the body out and lay it on the table. Addison pours salt and lighter fluid on the corpse, then moves back as Dean lights a matchbook and tosses on the corpse. “Think that’ll do it,” Sam asks as a loud roar grabs their attention and they turn to see the truck right in front of them.

“Guess not,” Addison replies.

“So, burning the body had no effect on that thing?”

“Oh, sure it did. Now, it’s really pissed,” Dean snaps.

“But Cyrus’ ghost is gone, right?”

“Apparently not the part that’s fused with the truck?”

Addison frowns as Dean walks over to the Impala. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going for a little ride,” Dean answers.

“Now?”

“I’m gonna lead that thing away. That rusted piece of crap, you’ve gotta burn it.”

“How the hell are we supposed to burn a truck, Dean,” Sam asks.

“I don’t know. Figure something out,” Dean says, tossing his brother a bag of supplies and climbs into the Impala.

“Figure something out,” Sam repeats as Dean drives off with the ghost truck following him.

* * *

Addison’s phone rings and she looks up from John’s journal. She and Sam were struggling with coming up with a way to help Dean. She doesn’t look at the caller id. “You have to give us a minute,” she tells Dean.

“I don’t have a minute! What are we doing,” Dean demands.

“Let me call you back.” Addison hangs up and looks at Dean. “Call Cassie and have her give you precise directions to the church that was burned down.”

Sam nods and Addison pulls out a map. “Hollow ground,” he asks, dialing Cassie’s number.

“Yeah,” Addison replies. Minutes tick by as Sam gets the directions. The moment he hangs up, she’s dialing Dean. “We need to know exactly where you are.”

“I’m in the middle of fucking nowhere with a killer truck on my ass! I mean, it’s like it knows I put the torch to Cyrus,” Dean says.

“It’s really important that you tell us exactly where you are.”

“Decatur Road, about two miles off the highway.”

“Headed east,” Sam asks.

“Yes!” An engine roaring comes over the phone’s speaker. “Fuck!”

“Okay, uh, turn right. Up ahead, turn right,” Sam tells him. He glances at Addison. “You make the turn?”

“Yeah, I made the turn! You’re gonna need to move this thing along a little faster!”

“All right, you see a road up ahead?”

“No! What — wait, yes, I see it!”

“Okay, turn left.”

“What?” Squealing tires are heard. “All right, now what?”

“You need to go exactly seven-tenths of a mile and stop.”

“Stop?”

“Exactly seven-tenths, Dean.” Sam and Addison exchange a look as silence comes from the phone. “Dean, you still there?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s happening?”

“It’s just staring at me, what do I do?”

“You’re bringing it to you,” Addison answers. “Dean, you there?”

“Where’d it go?”

“You’re where that church was.”

“What church?”

“The church that Cyrus burned down and killed all those kids.”

“Not a whole lot left, Ads.”

“The ground is still hallow whether the church is there or not. Evil spirits can’t cross hallowed ground and sometimes they’re destroyed. Figured it would do the same thing to that ghost.”

“What if you were wrong,” Dean shouts.

“I, uh, I didn’t think about that,” Addison confesses. She rolls her eyes when Dean angrily hangs up. She glances at Sam and sees an amused look on his face. “What?

“Nothing. Just wondering how pissed Dean is gonna be,” Sam replies and Addison shakes her head in disbelief.

* * *

Addison grins as she sits down at the bar, pocket full of cash. They had left Missouri and Cassie earlier that day. Through when they had settled down in their latest motel room that night, Addison had left the boys without a backward’s glance. “How much you get?”

Addison jumps and turns to see Dean. “What are you doing here,” she asks, picking up her tequila shot.

Dean watches as she throws back the shot, then sits on the empty stool beside her. “Needed to get out of the room. So, how much did you get?”

“A few hundred. And if you’re nice, I’ll buy you a drink.”

Dean shoots her an annoyed look as he waves down the bartender. “You were jealous.”

Addison picks up her second shot and throws it back. “Do you want to celebrate my winnings with me or not?”

Dean picks up his beer. “I say we celebrate.”


	14. Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

Sam shoots up and looks around the dark motel room. The dream he just had was so real, so vibrant, and just like the other dreams he had before. He turns on the lamp sitting on the nightstand and sees that Dean and Addison are asleep in the other bed. He gets out of his bed and moves over to theirs. "Dean," Sam says, shaking Dean's shoulder. "Dean."

Dean lets out a groan and sits up. Sam starts running around the room, quickly packing their stuff. "What are you doing, man? It's the middle of the night."

"We have to go."

Addison sits up and reaches over Dean to grab her glasses. "Sam, what's going on," she tiredly asks.

"We have to go. Right now.” Sam replies and opens the door. They watch as he grabs his bags and leaves the room.

Addison looks at Dean. "What's going on?"

Dean runs a hand over his face. "I have no idea, Ads."

* * *

Addison leans forward and crosses her arms on the back of the front seat. Sam was on his cell phone and Dean was driving. Sam had explained the dream he had to them and Addison thought he was over reacting. "McCreedy. Detective McCreedy, badge number fifteen A. And I've got a signal 480 in progress. I need the registered owner of a two-door sedan, Michigan license plate. Mary, Frank, 6037. Yeah, okay, just hurry," Sam says into his cell.

"Sammy, relax. I'm sure it's just a nightmare," Dean tells him.

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"No, I mean it. You know, a normal, everyday, naked-in-class nightmare. This license plate, it won't check out, you'll see."

"It felt different, Dean. Real. Like when I dreamt about our old house and Jessica."

"Sam, you were dreaming about your old house, your girlfriend," Addison comments. "This guy in your dream, have you ever seen him before?"

"No."

"Then why would you have a vision about some random person in Michigan?"

"I don't know."

"Me neither," Dean says.

"Yes, I'm here," Sam says, turning his attention back to his phone. "Jim Miller. Saginaw, Michigan. You have a street address. Got it. Thanks." Sam hangs up his cell and looks up. "Checks out. How far are we?"

"From Saginaw," Dean asks.

"Yeah."

"Couple hours."

"Drive faster," Sam tells him and Dean presses down on the gas.

* * *

They pull up to a street filled with police cars and ambulances. They get out and walk over to where a crowd is standing. The paramedics place a body in a body bag and officers are talking with a couple of people. Addison can see the disappointed look on Sam's face. Dean walks over to a woman. "What happened," he asks.

"Suicide. I can't believe it," the woman replies.

"Did you know him," Addison asks.

"I saw him every Sunday at St. Augustine's. He always seems — seemed so normal. I guess you never know what's going on behind closed doors."

"Yeah, I guess not," Dean says.

"Are they saying how it happened," Addison asks the woman.

"I heard they found him in the garage. Locked inside his car with the engine running," the woman answers.

"Do you know about what time they found him," Sam asks, breaking his silence.

"Oh, it just happened about an hour or two ago. Oh, his poor family. I can't even imagine what they're going through."

They look at a woman, who's standing outside the house, crying and Sam walks away. Dean and Addison follow him back over to the Impala. "Sam, we got here as fast as we could," Dean tells him.

"Not fast enough. It just doesn't make any sense, man. Why would I even have these premonitions, unless there was a chance that I could stop them from happening," Sam asks them.

"I don't know."

"So, what do you think killed him?"

"Maybe he just committed suicide. I mean, maybe there isn't really anything supernatural going on," Addison suggests.

"I'm telling you, I watched it happened. He was murdered by something, Addison. It trapped him in the garage."

"Well, what? A spirit, a poltergeist, what," Dean asks.

"I don't know what it was. I don't know why I'm having these dreams, I don't know what the hell is happening, Dean," Sam replies and Dean stares at him. "What?"

"Nothing, man, I'm just worried about you."

"Well, don't look at me like that."

"I'm not lookin' at you like anything. Though I gotta say, you look like crap."

"Nice. Thanks."

"Yeah, well. Come on, let's just pick this up in the morning. We'll check out the house, we'll talk to family."

"Dean, you saw them, they're devastated. They're not gonna wanna talk to us."

"Yeah, you're right. But I think I know who they will talk to," Dean says, smirking. Sam and Addison exchange worried looks. Neither of them wanted to know what Dean's idea was.

* * *

They walk up to the front door of the Miller house. Dean rings the doorbell and they wait. "This has got to be a whole new low for us," Sam comments.

"At least you're not dressed up as a fucking nun," Addison mutters. Dean and Sam were wearing priest suits, while Addison was a nun.

The door opens and a man is standing there. "Good afternoon. I'm Father Simmons, this Father Frehley, and Sister Beth. We're new over at St. Augustine's. May we come in," Dean asks and the man nods, moving aside to let them in. "Thanks."

"We're very sorry for your loss," Sam says as they enter the house and the man closes the door.

"It is in difficult times like these when the Lord's guidance is needed," Addison tells the man.

"Look, if you wanna pitch your whole Lord-has-a-plan thing, fine. But don't pitch it to me. My brother is dead," the man tells her.

"Roger, please," a blonde woman says, walking over to them.

"Excuse me," Roger says and walks away.

"I'm sorry about my brother-in-law. He's just so upset about Jim's death. Would you like some coffee," Mrs. Miller asks them.

"That'd be great," Dean replies. They follow Mrs. Miller into the living room where people were standing around. Dean and Addison sit down on the couch while Sam sits in an armchair.

"It was wonderful of you to stop by. The support of the church means so much right now."

"Of course. After all, we are all God's children," Dean says and Addison and Sam stare at him. Mrs. Miller walks away and Dean grabs a mini sausage from a plate. "What?"

"Maybe you should tone it down a bit, Father," Addison tells him and Mrs. Miller returns, taking a seat in the arm chair across from the couch.

"So, Mrs. Miller, did your husband have a history of depression," Dean asks, mouth full of food.

"Nothing like that. We had our ups and downs, like everyone. But we were happy," Mrs. Miller answers and starts to cry. "I just don't understand how Jim could do something like that."

"I'm so sorry you had to find him like that," Sam tells her.

"Actually, our son, Max — he was the one who found him." Mrs. Miller points to a boy around Sam's age who's sitting alone in a different room.

"Do you mind if maybe I go talk to him," Sam asks.

"Oh, thank you, Father," Mrs. Miller replies and Sam gets up, then leaves.

Dean hands Mrs. Miller a tissue from the box sitting on the coffee table. "Mrs. Miller, you have a very lovely home. How long have you lived here," Addison softly asks.

"We moved in about five years ago."

"Hmmm. You know, the only problem with these old houses — I bet you have all kinds of headaches," Dean comments.

"Like what?"

"Well, weird leaks. Electrical shortages. Odd settling noises at night, that kind of thing."

"No, nothing like that. It's been perfect."

"Is it okay if I use your bathroom," Addison asks.

"Oh, sure. It's just up the stairs," Mrs. Miller answers.

Addison gives her a smile. "Thank you." She stands up and walks out of the room. She walks up the stairs and after a moment, takes out an EMF meter. Addison starts searching the upstairs of the house. Footsteps can be heard from the stairs. She hides the EMF meter under the dress. Addison turns and sees Dean walking up the stairs. She moves down the hallway and waits for him to catch up with her. "People are going to think we're having an affair, Father."

"They'll understand once they see what you have hidden under that, Sister," Dean counters, pulling the infrared thermal scanner out of his jacket. They finish searching the upstairs part of the house but don't find anything. Footsteps echo in the hallway and Dean quickly shoves the scanner back in his jacket.

"I don't know what you are thinking Father Simmons, but I will not partake in that act with you," Addison says and rolls her eyes when Sam appears at the top of the stairs. "Its just Sam."

"Geez, thanks Addison," Sam replies. "Find anything?"

"Zip," Dean tells him and looks at Addison.

"What? It could've been anyone," Addison counters and walks past both of them.

* * *

Addison walks out of the bathroom to find Dean still sitting on their bed, with weapons and cleaning supplies around him. She shakes her head as she shoves the nun outfit to the bottom of her duffle. Sam was sitting at the small table with his laptop in front of him. "What do you got," Addison asks, flopping down on Sam's bed.

"A whole lot of nothing," Sam replies. "Nothing bad has happened to the Miller house since it was built."

"What about the land," Dean asks.

"No graveyards, battlefields, tribal lands, or any other kind of atrocity on or near the property."

"Hey, we searched that entire house," Addison says. "The EMF didn't pick anything up, there weren't any cold spots and I sure as hell didn't smell any sulfur."

"And the family said everything was normal?"

"Well, I mean, if there was a demon or a poltergeist in there, don't you think somebody would've noticed something," Dean retorts. "I used the infrared thermal scanner, man, there was nothing."

"So, what, you both think Jim Miller killed himself? And my dream was just some sort of freakish coincidence?"

Dean and Addison exchange a look. "Don't know. But I'm pretty sure that there's nothing supernatural about that house."

"Yeah." Sam winces and rubs his head. "Well, you know, maybe, uh — maybe it has nothing to do with the house. Maybe, it's just, uh — gosh — maybe it's connected to Jim in some other way."

Sam grabs his head. "Sam, you okay," Addison asks, walking over to him. She places a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"No, my head." Sam groans in pain.

Dean rushes over to him and grabs his shoulders. "Sam? Hey. Hey! What's going on? Talk to us." Sam stares at them, shocked. "Sam."

"I think he's having a vision," Addison disbelievingly states.

Sam blinks and stares at them. "It's happening again," he pants. "Something's gonna kill Roger Miller."

* * *

Addison watches with concern as Sam talks with someone on his cell phone. She knew Dean was just as worried as she was, but he didn't let it show. Sam hangs up his phone and shoves it in his jacket pocket. "450 West Grove, apartment 1120," he tells Dean.

Addison places a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

Dean glances at him. "If you're gonna hurl, I'll pull the car over, you know, cause the upholstery—"

"I'm fine."

"Alright."

"Just drive."

"Alright."

Sam lets out a deep breath. "I'm scared, guys. These nightmares weren't bad enough, now I'm seeing them when I'm awake? And these visions or whatever, they're getting more intense. And painful."

Addison wraps her arms around him the best she can and gives him a comforting hug. "Sam, it's gonna be okay."

"What is it about the Millers? Why am I connected to them? Why am I watching them die? Why the hell is this happening to me?"

"Sam, we're gonna find out what's going on. This is just another part of our lives."

"No. It's never been us. It's never been in the family like this. Tell the truth, you can't tell me this doesn't freak either of you out."

"This doesn't freak us out," Dean and Addison tell him at once. A short while later, they pull up to the apartment complex. Dean slows down when he sees Roger walking down the street, carrying a bag of groceries.

Sam rolls down the window and leans out. "Hey, Roger!"

"Hey, hold up a second," Dean shouts.

Roger stops and looks at them. "What are you guys, missionaries? Leave me alone," he coldly tells them.

"Please," Sam shouts. Dean pulls over and they climb out of the Impala. "Hey, Roger, we're trying to help! Please!"

Roger darts into the building. He locks the door. "I don't want your help."

"We're not priests! You've gotta listen to us!"

"Roger, you're in danger," Addison shouts as Roger disappears up the stairs.

"Hey," Dean says, motioning to a nearby alley. After reaching the back of the building, they find the fire escape that leads up Roger's building and climb up it. A loud crashing sound causes them to go faster. They reach a ledge and Addison immediately turns away. Blood covered the window. Roger's head sat on the window sill.

Dean pulls a couple of rags out of his pocket and hands one each to Addison and Sam. "Here, start wiping down your fingerprints. We don't want the cops to know we were here. Go, go, come on." Numbly, she starts wiping down the railing. Dean finds another window. "Hey, I'm gonna take a look inside." No one says anything as he climbs into the apartment.

* * *

Addison splashes cold water on her face. She was in the bathroom of the motel. She had no idea how she had managed not to puke on the silent drive back. Slowly, Addison makes her way out of the bathroom. "You done puking," Dean asks.

"I think I'll puke all over your shoes next time," Addison counters, sitting down on the bed. "Any ideas on what the hell is happening?"

"No idea."

"There was something there. I just know it," Sam says.

"And I'm telling you there was nothing in there. There's no signs either, just like the Miller's house."

"I saw something in the vision, like a dark shape. Something was stalking Roger."

"Well, we know that it's not connected to the house," Addison says. "So, maybe something that's connected to the family?"

"A vengeful spirit?"

"There's a few that have been known to latch onto families, follow 'em for years," Dean says. "It's basically like a curse. So, maybe Roger and Jim Miller got involved in something heavy. Something curse-worthy.

"And now something's out for revenge," Sam reasons. "And the men in their family are dying. Hey, you think Max is in danger?"

"Maybe," Addison replies. "We just got to figure it out."

"Well, I know one thing I have in common with these people."

"What's that," Dean asks.

"Both our families are cursed."

"Our family's not cursed. We just..." Dean trails off and shrugs. "Have our dark spots."

"Our dark spots are pretty dark."

“You’re…dark."

* * *

Addison sighs as they enter the Miller's house. She hated Dean's idea of putting on the costumes for a second time. But mainly she hated her costume. "My mom's resting," Max says, snapping Addison out of her thoughts. "She's pretty wrecked. All these people kept coming with, like, casseroles. I finally had to tell them all to go away." She notices the table filled with saran wrap dishes. "You know, cause nothing says 'I'm sorry' like a tuna casserole."

"How are you holding up," Sam asks as they sit down on the couch.

"I'm okay."

"Were your dad and uncle close," Addison softly asks.

"Yeah, I guess. I mean, they were brothers. They used to hang out all the time when I was little."

"But not lately much," Sam asks.

"No, it's not that. It's just — we used to be neighbors when I was a kid. And we lived across town in this house and Uncle Roger lived next door, so he was over all the time."

"Right. So, how was it in that house when you were a kid?"

"It was fine. Why?"

"All good memories," Dean asks. "Do you remember anything unusual? Something involving your father and your uncle, maybe?"

Max's gaze goes between them. "What do you - why do you ask?"

"Just a question."

"No. There was nothing. We were totally normal. Happy."

"Good. That's good." Dean stands up and Sam and Addison follow suit. "Well, you must be exhausted. We should take off."

"Thanks," Sam tells Max. He nods and they walk out of the house.

Once they're inside the Impala, Addison pulls off the habit. "He was lying. No one's family is totally normal or happy. Besides, he got all weird when you asked about his old house."

"Sounded scared."

"I say we go find the old neighborhood and find out what life was really like at the Millers," Dean comments, starting the Impala.

"I say we get changed first," Addison replies. "Because I hate these damn costumes." Dean glances at her and smirks. "Shut up."

* * *

Addison looks around the neighborhood as she climbs out of the Impala. To her, it looked many of the other neighborhoods they had been in over the years. "Hey," Sam says, motioning to where a man was raking his lawn. The three of them walk over to him. "Excuse me, have you lived in the neighborhood very long?"

"Yeah, almost twenty years now," the man answers, leaning on his rake. "It's nice and quiet. Why? You looking to buy?"

"No, no, actually, we were just wondering if you might recall a family that use to live right across the street, I believe."

"Yeah, the Millers," Dean says. "They had a little boy named Max."

The man takes off his baseball cap and runs a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I remember. The brother had the place next door. So, uh, what's this about? That poor kid okay?"

"What do you mean," Addison questions.

"Well, in my life, I've never seen a child treated like that. I mean, I'd hear Mr. Miller yelling and throwing things clear across the street. He was a mean drunk. He used to beat the tar out of Max. Bruises, broke his arm two times that I know of."

"And this happened on a regular basis?"

"Practically every day. In fact, that thug brother of his was just as likely to take a swing at the boy, but the worst part was the stepmother. She'd just stand there, checked out, never lifted a finger to protect him. I must have called the police seven or eight times, never did any good."

"Now, you said stepmother," Dean asks.

The man nods. "I think his real mom died. Some sort of accident, a car accident, I think." The man notices Sam grabbing his head. "Are you okay, there?"

"Thank you for your time," Addison quickly says. Dean grabs Sam and they make their way back over to the Impala. She opens the back door and he puts Sam in the seat.

* * *

"Max is doing it," Sam says, as Dean speeds down the road. Addison was leaning on the front seat. After coming out of his vision, Sam had explained everything. And the immediate decision was to head over to the Millers' house. "Everything I've been seeing."

Dean glances at him. "Sam, are you sure about this?"

"Yeah, I saw it."

"So, how's he doing it then?"

"I don't know. It looked like telekinesis."

"So, he's psychic," Dean asks. "He's a spoon bender?"

"I didn't even realize it, but this whole time he was there. He was outside of the garage when his dad died, he was in the apartment when his uncle died. These visions, this whole time, I wasn't connecting to the Millers, I was connecting to Max. The thing I don't get is why, man? I guess because we're so alike."

Dean frowns. "What are you talking about? The dude's nothing like you."

"Well, we both have psychic abilities. We're both—"

"Both what? Sam, Max is a monster. He's already killed two people and now he's gunning for a third."

"Well, with what he went through, the beatings. To want revenge on those people, I'm sorry, man, I hate to say it, but it's not that insane."

"But it doesn't justify murdering his entire family," Addison counters.

“Addison—"

Dean pulls the Impala to a stop in front of the Millers' house. "He's no different than anything else we've hunted. Alright, we've gotta end him."

"We're not gonna kill Max."

"Then what? We hand him over to the cops and say, 'Lock him up, officer, he kills with the power of his mind.'" Addison snorts in amusement.

"Forget it. No way, man."

"Sam-"

"Dean, he's a person. We can talk to him. Hey, promise me you'll follow my lead on this one."

Dean reluctantly sighs. "Alright, fine." He reaches into the glove compartment and takes out his gun. "But I'm not letting him hurt anybody else."

The three of them climb out of the Impala and walk to the front door. Addison reaches to ring the doorbell, but Sam opens the door and rushes into the home. Dean shrugs and follows his brother. Addison shakes her head and walks into the house, pausing to close the door. They find Max and Mrs. Miller in the kitchen. "Fathers, Sister," Mrs. Miller confusingly asks.

"What are you doing here," Max asks.

"Uh, sorry to interrupt," Dean apologizes.

"Max, could we, uh, could we talk to you outside for just one second," Sam asks.

"About what," Max counters.

"It's — its private. I wouldn't wanna bother your mother with it. We won't be long at all, though. I promise."

"Okay."

"Great."

They walk into the living room. Dean starts to open the door. Max sees the glint of Dean's gun in the mirror. The door suddenly slams shut. Blinds are pulled over the window. "You're not priests!" Dean pulls out his gun and it flies out of his hand before landing on the floor in front of Max. Addison steps back as Max picks up the gun and aims it at them.

Mrs. Miller walks into the living room. "Max, what's happening?"

"Shut up," Max shouts, tightening his grip on the gun.

"What are you doing?"

Max turns and Mrs. Miller goes flying to into the kitchen island. "I said shut up!"

"Max, calm down," Sam says, taking a cautious step forward.

"Who are you?"

"We just wanna talk to you."

"Yeah, right." Max waves the gun. "That's why you brought this."

"That was a mistake, alright? So was lying about who we were, but no more lying, Max, okay? Just, please, just hear me out."

"About what?"

"I saw you do it. I saw you kill your dad and your uncle before it happened."

Max stares at Sam in disbelief. "What?"

"I'm having visions, Max. About you."

"You're crazy."

"So, you weren't gonna launch a knife at your stepmom?" Sam points to his eye. "Right here? Is it that hard to believe, Max? Look what you can do. Max, I was drawn here, alright. I think I'm here to help you."

"No one can help me!"

"Let me try. We'll just talk. Me and you. We'll get Dean and Addison and Alice out of here."

"Nuh uh. No way," Dean counters. Addison glances at the ceiling as the light starts to shake.

"Nobody leaves this house," Max screams.

"And nobody has to, alright," Sam tells him. "They'll just — they'll just go upstairs."

"Sam, we can't leave you alone with him," Addison hisses.

"Yes, you are," Sam whispers. He turns back to Max. "Look, Max, you're in charge here, all right? We all know that. No one's gonna do anything that you don't want to, but I'm talking five minutes here, man."

"Sam," Dean says.

"Five minutes," Max finally says. The light stops shaking. "Go." Addison and Dean walk over to where Mrs. Miller was slowly waking up. Dean helps her up and they walk upstairs. Addison opens a random door to find a bedroom. They walk in and Dean helps Mrs. Miller sit on the bed. Addison walks into the bathroom and wets a washcloth. She hands it to Dean who places it on Mrs. Miller's forehead. Addison goes back into the bathroom and searches for some aspirin.

The bedroom door flies open and Addison rushes out to find Max. Dean moves towards him, but gets slammed into the wall. "Dean," Addison exclaims, running over to him. She helps him up.

Dean starts towards Max, but Max aims the gun at him with his mind. "Stay back. It's not about you."

"If you wanna kill her, you gotta go through me first," Dean coldly tells him.

"Okay."

Max gets ready to pull the trigger when Sam bursts into the room. "No, don't," Sam shouts. "Don't. Please. Please, Max. Max, we can help you, alright? But this — what you're doing — it's not the solution. It's not gonna fix anything."

"You're right." Max turns the gun on himself and fires. Addison grips Dean's arm as Max falls to the floor, dead.

* * *

Addison never lets go of Dean's arm while the police talked to them. She kept her gaze on the ground as Max's body was wheeled out of the house on a gurney. She was thankful that the police didn't question her. "Max attacked me," Mrs. Miller says, snapping Addison out of her thoughts. They had moved downstairs after the police had arrived. "He threatened me with a gun."

The officer motions to where Addison, Dean, and Sam were standing. "And these three?"

"They're family friends. I called them as soon as Max arrived, I was scared. They tried to stop him. They fought for the gun."

"Where did Max get the gun?"

"I don't know! He showed up with it and..." Mrs. Miller sobs.

"It's alright, Mrs. Miller."

"I've lost everyone!"

The officer walks over to them. "We'll give you a call if we have any further questions."

"Thanks, Officer," Dean replies. "Come on." As they walk out of the house, Dean pulls his arm out of Addison's grasp. And he immediately wraps around her shoulders.

"If I just said something else," Sam says. "Gotten through to him somehow."

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Torture yourself. It wouldn't have mattered what you said, Max was too far gone."

"When I think about how he looked at me, man, right before..." Sam shakes his head. "I should've done something."

"Come on, man, you risked your life. I mean, yeah, maybe if we had gotten there twenty years earlier."

"Well, I'll tell you one thing, we're lucky we had Dad."

They stop at the Impala. Dean looks at Sam, shocked. "I never thought I'd hear you say that."

"Well, he could've one a whole another way after Mom. A little more tequila, a little less demon hunting and we would've had Max's childhood. All things considered, we turned out okay, thanks to him."

"All things considered," Dean replies, giving Sam a look. Sam takes the hint and climbs into the front seat. Dean turns to Addison. "You gonna be okay, Ads?"

"Yeah," Addison softly answers, rubbing her arms. "Just...seeing Max do that...it just brought up memories I'd rather not remember." Dean softly kisses the side of her head and she gives him a thankful smile.

* * *

Addison drops a small cosmetic bag in her duffle bag. Dean was rolling up his jeans. After everything that had happened, they decided that it was best to leave town. "Hey." She looks up and a green bra hits her face. "I'm pretty sure that's yours."

"Thanks for that," Addison sarcastically says.

Sam walks back into the room. "I've been thinking."

"Well, that's never a good thing," Dean comments.

"I'm serious. I've been thinking - why would this demon or whatever it is, why would it kill Mom and Jessica and Max's mother, you know, what does it want?"

"No idea."

"Well, you think maybe it was after us? After Max and me?"

"Why would you think that?"

"I mean, either telekinesis or premonitions, we both had abilities, you know? Maybe it was after us for some reason."

"Sam, if it wanted you, it would've just taken you, okay? This is not your fault. It's not about you."

"Then what is it about?"

"It's about the damn thing that did this to our family. The thing that we're gonna find, the thing that we're gonna kill. And that's all."

Sam sighs. "Actually, there's, uh, something else too."

"Great," Addison says.

Sam shoots her an unamused look. "When Max locked me in that closet, that big cabinet against the door - I moved it."

Dean laughs. "You've got a little bit more upper body strength than I give you credit for."

"No, man, I moved it — like Max."

"Oh. Right."

"Yeah."

Dean grabs a spoon off the nightstand. "Bend this."

Sam sighs. "I can't turn it on and off, Dean."

"Well, how'd you do it?"

"I don't know. I can't control. I saw you die and it just came out of me, like a punch. You know, like a freak adrenaline thing."

"I doubt it'll happen again," Addison tells him.

"Yeah, maybe. Aren't you worried? Aren't either of you worried that I could turn into Max or something?"

Dean and Addison exchange a look. "Nope. No way. You know why?"

"No. Why?"

"You have something that Max didn't," Addison comments.

"Dad? Because Dad's not here, Addison."

"No. Us," Dean responds. "As long as we're around, nothing bad is gonna happen to you." Dean picks up his duffle bag. "Now then, I know what we need to do about your premonitions. I know where we have to go."

"Where?"

"Vegas." Sam snorts and walks out of the motel room. Addison glares at him. "What? Come on. Craps table. We'd clean up."

Addison picks up her bag and walks over to him. "Do you really think Vegas is somewhere we should go, Dean? Remember what happened last time."

Dean shrugs. "Atlantic City then." Addison shakes her head and walks out of the room. "What? Ads, c'mon!"


	15. The Benders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

“I know you’re just doing your job, but the police have been here all week already. I don’t see why we have to go through this again. The more he tells the story, the more he believes it’s true,” Mrs. McKay tells the trio. Addison nods in understanding. They were posing as state sheriffs for Minnesota. A man mysteriously vanishing had lead them to Northern Minnesota to speak with the only witness, an eleven year old.

“We understand that you’ve spoken to the local authorities,” Addison begins.

“But, uh, this seems like a matter for the state police, so…” Dean continues.

“Don’t worry about how crazy it sounds, Evan. You just tells what you saw,” Sam finishes.

Evan takes a deep breath. “I was up late, watching TV. When I hear this weird noise.”

Sam nods. “What did it sound like?”

“It sounded like…a monster.”

“Tell the officers what you were watching on TV,” Mrs. McKay orders as they trio exchanges a look.

Evan sighs. “ _Godzilla vs Mothra._ ”

“That’s my favorite Godzilla movie,” Dean says. “It’s so much better than the original, huh?”

“Totally.”

“Yeah.” Dean motions to Sam. “He likes the remake.”

“Yuck.”

Addison clears her throat and shoots Dean a pointed look. She gives Evan a soft smile. “Evan, did you happen to see what this monster was?”

Evan shakes his head. “No. But I saw it grab Mr. Jenkins. It pulled him underneath the car.”

“Then what,” Sam asks.

“It took him away. I heard the monster leaving. It made this really scary sound.”

“What did it sound like, Evan,” Addison questions.

“Like this…whining growl.”

They exchange another look. That was definitely odd and a lot of monsters made strange growling sounds. “Thanks for your time,” Sam tells Mrs. McKay and they walk out of the small apartment.

* * *

Addison could feel his heat on her back. His soft breathing in her ear. She takes a deep breath and concentrates on the dart board hanging on the wall. And she knew without a doubt that he was smirking at her. “I’m not distracting you, am I,” Dean asks, his fingers dancing over her hip.

“No,” Addison replies. She throws the dart and huffs in annoyance when it lands no where the near center of the board. Dean laughs in triumph and she shoots him an annoyed look before heading in the direction of where Sam was sitting.

Dean grins, draping an arm around her shoulder. “Don’t be such a sore loser, Ads.”

Addison shoves him away and sits down at the table. “You cheated,” she argues, picking up her glass of wine.

“Hey, I can’t help it if you get turned on by me standing next to you.”

“So, local police have not ruled out foul play. Apparently, there were signs of a struggle,” Sam says, pushing John’s journal across the table to Addison.

Dean takes a swig of his beer. “Well, they could be right, it could just be a kidnapping. Maybe this isn’t our kind of gig.”

“Well, there’s the chance you could be right, except that John marked the area in his journal,” Addison counters, turning the journal to face Dean. “Apparently this area could be the possible hunting grounds of a phantom attacker.”

“Why would he even do that?”

“Well, he found a lot of local folklore about a dark figure that comes out at night. Grabs people, then vanishes. He found this too,” Sam explains, turning a page in the journal. An old newspaper article was stapled to the page. “This county has more missing persons per capita than anywhere else in the state.”

“That is weird.”

“No shit,” Addison mutters. She smirks when Dean glares at her.

“Don’t phantom attackers usually snatch people from their beds? Jenkins was taken from a parking lot.”

“There’s all kinds. Springhill Jacks, phantom gassers. And they all take people anywhere, anytime. But, hey, you could be right, this might not be our kind of thing,” Addison explains.

Dean shrugs. “Yeah, you’re right. We should ask around more tomorrow.”

“Right.” Sam agrees, taking out his wallet. “I saw a motel about five miles back.”

“Whoa, whoa, easy. Let’s have another round.”

Sam shoots him a look. “We should get an early start.”

“Yeah, you really know how to have fun, don’t you, Grandma,” Dean says. Sam smiles at him. “All right, I’ll meet you guys outside, I gotta take a leak.”

“TMI, Dean.” Addison comments, standing up and pulling on her pea coat. Dean smirks at her and grabs his leather jacket before walking over to the bathrooms. Sam gathers up all the research, then he and Addison walk out of the bar. As they walk to the Impala, Sam stops when he hears a noise. Addison watches as he places the research on the back of a car and takes out a flashlight. He kneels down and a cat runs out from underneath the car. Addison laughs. “Nice, Sam. You scared a poor innocent kitty.”

“We don’t know where this thing is or what it is, Ads,” Sam argues, standing up. Addison shakes her head in amusement as they continue over to the Impala. Neither of them notices something come up behind them.

A few minutes later, Dean walks out of the bar. When he reaches the Impala, Sam nor Addison are anywhere to be found. He looks around, hoping to see them. “Sam!? Ads?!”

* * *

The first thing Sam feels when he wakes up is a pain radiating from the back of his head. The second is a warm body draped over him and snoring in his ear. He opens his eyes. He wasn’t in a motel room, but in a steel cage. He looks around and finds that he’s in a barn of some kind. It was day, but he couldn’t tell what time due to the small amount of sunlight. Sam looks down and sees Addison asleep on him. “Ads.” he says, shifting to find a more comfortable position. He notices a drool patch forming on his t-shirt and stares in disbelief. “Ads. Addison.”

“Go ‘way.” Addison murmurs, burying her face in his chest. Sam sits up and she slides off onto the cage’s floor. 

Sam incredulously watches as Addison tries to get comfortable on the cold, steel floor. He always thought Dean had been exaggerating Addison’s ability to sleep anywhere. “Addison!”

Addison groans and opens her eyes. She looks around in confusion as she pushes her self up. She turns to Sam. “Sam, where are we?”

“No idea.” Sam answers. His gaze lands on a cage next to theirs and he sees a person sleeping. “Hey.” Addison turns to look at the man in the cage. He looked like he had been there for a few days. They exchange a look and Sam grabs her hand in reassurance. He could see the worry in her eyes. “I’ll gonna get us out of here, Ads.”

Addison nods. Between them and Dean this monster didn’t have a chance. She winces, seeing the drool stain on Sam’s shirt. “Uh, sorry, about the, uh…”

Sam shoots her an amused smile. “It’s fine, Ads.”

* * *

Addison sighs while she watches Sam try to break down the door of their cage. She rubs her arms, trying to get warm. Whatever had taken them, had also decided to remove their coats for some odd reason. A groan comes from the cage next to them and they see the man wake up. Sam stops and moves over to the side. “You’re alive.” Sam states and the man groans again. “Hey, you okay?”

The man glares at him. He looked to be in his late thirties. He had beard and black hair. “Does it look like I’m doing okay?”

“Do you know where we are?” Addison asks.

“I don’t know. The country, I think. Smells like the country.”

“You’re Alvin Jenkins, aren’t you.” Sam says.

Jenkins stares. “Yeah.”

Sam sighs and exchanges a look with Addison. “We were looking for you.”

Jenkins scoffs. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, no offense, but this a piss poor rescue.”

“Well, my brother’s out there right now, too. He’s looking for us. So—”

“So, he’s not gonna find us. We’re in the middle nowhere.” Jenkins nods towards the front of the barn. “Waiting form them to come back and do God knows what to us.”

“Do you know what they are?” Addison questions. “Have you seen them?”

Jenkins frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“Whatever’s got us, what’d they look like?” Sam asks.

“See for yourself.” Jenkins answers. The door to the barn opens and two men walk in. They were wearing dark coats and hats. As one of the men walk over to Jenkins’ cage, Sam scrambles in front of Addison. She grips the back of his shirt as the man leers at her. The other man goes to some kind of panel a few feet in front of them. They watch as he puts in a key and the door to Jenkins’ cage opens. “Leave me alone! Don’t you take me, leave me alone!” The man drops a plate in front of Jenkins and walks away. The other man takes out the key and the door closes.

The men leave and Addison lets out a nervous breath. “They’re just people.” she softly says.

“Yeah. What’d you expect?” Jenkins mocks, devouring the food.

“How often do they feed you?” Sam asks.

“Once a day. And they use that thing over there to open the cage.”

“And that’s the only time you see them?”

“So far. But I’m waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” Addison questions, letting go of Sam’s shirt.

“Ned Beatty time.”

“I think that’s the least of your worries right now.” Sam comments.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you think they want, then?”

Sam reaches through the top of the cage and grabs a thick metal wire. He yanks on it. “Depends on who they are.”

“They’re a bunch of psycho hillbilly rednecks, if you ask me. Looking for love in all the wrong places.” Jenkins replies. Addison lets out a sigh and presses up against the back of the cage. Monsters she could handle, people, through, were an entirely different story.

* * *

Addison rubs her arms as she watches Sam. Coldness had descended over the barn. Sam had been yanking on the wire for a while now, but he hadn’t had any luck. “Sam, maybe you should take a break,” she suggests. Sam shakes his head, pulling on the wire harder.

“Why don’t you give it up, Sammy, there’s no way out.” Jenkins comments.

“Don’t…call me…Sammy.” Sam replies as the wire finally breaks. He lets out a groan and falls back against Addison. A piece of metal falls into the cage. Addison gently pushes Sam to the side and leans forward to pick up the piece of metal.

“What is it?”

“A bracket.” Addison answers, handing it to Sam.

“Well, thank God, a bracket. Now we’ve got them, huh.” Jenkins sarcastically says. The door to his cage opens. “Must’ve been a short.” He climbs out of his cage and looks at them. “Maybe you knocked something loose.”

“Jenkins, you should get back in there.”

“What?”

“This isn’t right.” Sam adds.

Jenkins frowns. “Don’t you two wanna get out of here?”

“Yeah, but that was too easy.”

“Look, I’m gonna get out of here and I’m gonna send help, okay. Don’t worry.”

“Jenkins, stop, I mean it. It could be a trap.” Addison warns.

“Bye, guys.” Jenkins replies and walks out of the barn.

“Jenkins.” Sam shouts. The door of the now empty cage slams shut. Addison jumps and grabs Sam’s arm. Her gaze darts around the dark barn. He looks at her and touches her arm. “Ads, you’re freezing.”

“I’m fine. We need to find a way out of here before those redneck psychos come back.” Addison says. Sam wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her against his chest. His hand slide under her thin t-shirt. “Um, Sam, what — what are you doing?”

“Warming up. It’s not gonna do us any good if we freeze to death,” Sam explains. Addison nods and turns to where she’s facing him. She buries her nose in his neck and he jumps. She can’t help but laugh. “Your nose is really cold, Ads.”

Addison slides her hands under his shirt. A scream comes from somewhere outside and her grip on him tightens. “I swear if Dean isn’t looking for us, I’ll kick his ass into next year.” Silence settles over them, each lost in their own thoughts. Addison shifts, trying to find a more comfortable position on his lap. Then she stills. She glances up at Sam, who was avoiding looking at her. Addison smirks and leans up, her lips brush his ear. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Sam. We’re both adults here. It happens, right.”

Sam closes his eyes, mentally running through various ways to get rid of a spirit. “Yeah.”

“And it would help us stay warm.”

“Ads, you’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, are you?”

“Well…”

“We’re not doing that.”

“It would help us stay warm.”

“We’re not having sex while trapped in a cage.”

Addison smirks. “Oh, so you do want to have sex with me?”

Sam rolls his eyes. “God, you’re worse then Dean.”

Addison laughs. “Hey, it ain’t like you’re denying it, Sam.”

He groans and she laughs. “Shut up.” 

* * *

Sam pushes Addison behind him when the barn door opens. The men enter, one carrying a woman. The other goes to the lock, inserts the key and turns the knob, allowing the empty cage door to open. The man tosses the woman into the cage. Addison grips Sam’s arm when the man move towards their cage. The man leers at her, then walks away. The other man turns the key and takes it out. The door of the other cage slams shut and they watch as the men walk out of the barn.

Addison lets out a relived sigh and leans against Sam. “I really didn’t like the way that man was looking at me.”

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, Ads.” Sam tells her.

“I know.” Addison softly replies. A groan comes from the other cage and they turn to see the woman start to wake up. “Hey, are you okay?”

The woman sits up and looks at them, while rubbing the back of her head. “Are you Addison Sloan and Sam Winchester?”

Addison and Sam exchange a look. “Yeah,” Sam answers.

The woman blinks as she looks around the barn. “Your, uh, your cousin’s looking for you.”

Sam lets out a relived breath. “Thank God. Where is he?”

“I, uh, I cuffed him to my car.”

The door opens and Sam moves in front of Addison. The person walks over and they let out a relived sigh seeing that it’s Dean. “Sam? Ads,” Dean asks and they smile. “Are you guys hurt?”

“No,” Sam answers.

“Just a little cold,” Addison adds.

“Damn, it’s good to see you two,” Dean says.

“How did you get out of the cuffs,” the sheriff asks.

“Oh, I know a trick or two. All right.” Dean walks to the front of their cage and examines the lock. “Oh, these locks look like they’re gonna be a bitch.”

“Well, there’s some kind of automatic control right there,” Sam says, motioning to the control panel.

“Have you seen them?”

“They’re just crazy ass, psycho people,” Addison explains.

“And they jumped both of you?” Dean smirks at his younger brother. “Ads I understand. But you must be getting a little rusty there, kiddo.” Dean walks over to the control panel and starts pushing buttons. “What do they want?”

“I don’t know. They let Jenkins go, but that was some sort of trap. It doesn’t make sense to me,” Sam says.

“Well, that’s the point. You know, with our usual playmates, there’s rules, there’s patterns. But with people, they’re just crazy.”

“Hey, did you see anything else outside,” Addison explains.

“Uh, he has about a dozen junked cars hidden out back. Plates from all over, so I’m thinking when they take someone, they take their car too.”

“Did you see a black Mustang out there,” the sheriff asks and Dean looks at her. “About ten years old?”

“Yeah, actually, I did. Your brother’s?” The sheriff nods. “I’m sorry.” Dean turns back to Sam and Addison. “Let’s get you guys out of here, then we’ll take care of those bastards. This thing takes a key? Key?”

“I don’t know,” Sam tells him.

“All right, I better go find it.”

Dean starts towards the barn door. “Hey,” Addison calls out and he turns to her. “Be careful. And find my coat.” He nods and walks out of the barn.

* * *

The barn door opens once more and Addison quickly ducks behind Sam. They watch as a man walks over to the control panel and the door of their cage unlocks. “What are you doing,” Sam demands as the man walks over to them. Sam grabs the bracket as the man opens the door and aims the gun he was carrying at them. Sam throws the bracket at the man and the man stares in shock. Sam scrambles out of the cage and tackles the man to the ground. Sam lands a few punches on the man before tearing the gun out of the man’s grip. He slams the butt of the shotgun on the man’s head and knocks him out. Sam stands up and pulls the trigger but nothing happens. “Damn.”

Addison climbs out of the cage and rushes over to the control panel. She slams a button and the door of the other cage opens. The woman climbs out of the cage and gives her a thankful look. Sam grabs the knocked out man and shoves him into the cage. Addison presses another button and the door of their cage shuts. Sam walks over to her. “Go find Dean,” he whisper.

“What are you going to do,” Addison whispers back.

“Deal with the others that are going to show up.” Addison nods and starts towards the barn door, but stops when Sam grabs her arm. “Hey, be careful.”

“You do the same.” Sam lets go of her arm and Addison silently walks out. She quickly ducks behind some bushes when she sees two men, each with shotguns, and one of them older, enter the barn.

Quietly, Addison emerges from the bushes and sees a old house. She runs over to the house and looks in a window to find Dean tied to a chair with a little girl holding a knife to his eye. Addison silently slips into the house. She looks around, but doesn’t see anything she can use as a weapons. She starts forward and the floor creaks. 

Addison winces and looks up to see the little girl staring at her. She takes off and hears the little girl running after her. Addison enters the kitchen and sees a frying pan sitting on the stove. She grabs it just as a sharp pain fills her side. Addison looks down and sees a rusty knife embedded in her side. The little girl had a proud look on her face. Addison slams the frying pan into the side of the little girl’s head and she falls to the ground, unconscious.

Addison drops the frying pan on the ground and pulls out of the knife, before making her way back over to the living room. “Looks like I just saved the damsel in distress.” she jokes.

“Shut up and come untie me.” Dean snaps. He hadn’t missed the red stain slowly growing on the side of Addison’s shirt.

Addison walks behind the chair and cuts the ropes around his hands. Once free, Dean jumps up and starts towards the kitchen. She grabs his arm. “Dean, she’s more than likely gonna spend the rest of her life locked up in a hospital. Let’s just get Sam and get the hell out of here. Besides, I’m fine. It wasn’t even that deep.”

“I wasn’t a damsel in distress,” Dean says.

Addison smiles. “You were being held hostage by a little girl, Dean. That makes you a damsel in distress.”

* * *

Addison quickly buttons up her peacoat and lets out a relived sigh. Sam doesn’t miss the wince on her face or the protective hand over her side. “I’m fine. It’s just a cut,” she says, seeing the concerned look flash across his face. She turns to Dean. “Hey, where’s the car?”

“Police station,” Dean answers the sheriff walks over to them.

“So, state police and the FBI are gonna be here within an hour. They’re gonna wanna talk to you. I suggest that you’re all long gone by then,” the sheriff tells them.

Dean nods. “Thanks. Hey, listen, I don’t mean to press out luck, but we’re kind of in the middle of nowhere. Think we could catch a ride?”

“Start walking. Duck if you see a squad car.”

“Sounds great to us. Thanks,” Sam says.

“Listen, uh, I’m sorry about your brother,” Dean tells the sheriff.

The sheriff nods. “Thank you. It was really hard not knowing what happened to him. I thought it would be easier once I knew the truth — but it isn’t really. Anyway you should go.”

They nod and walk down the muddy road. “Neither of you do that again,” Dean orders.

“Do what,” Addison asks, burying her hand in her coat’s pockets.

“Go missing like that.”

Addison smiles. “Awe, you were worried about us.”

“All I’m saying is, either of you vanish like that again, I’m not looking for either of you.”

“Sure you won’t,” Sam amusingly counters.

“I’m not.”

“So, Addison said you got sideline by a thirteen year old girl, huh.”

“Shut up.”

“Just saying, getting rusty there, kiddo." 

“Shut up.”

* * *

“Sammy!” Addison exclaims as she stumbles into the dark motel room. Sam turns on the lamp as he sits up in bed. He frowns as she climbs onto his bed. The door slams shut and he watches his older brother quickly make his way towards the bathroom. His attention turns back to Addison as she straddles his lap.

“Um, Addison?” Sam asks, shifting. He glances in the direction of the bathroom. He had left Dean and Addison at a bar a few hours earlier. Addison wraps her arms around his neck. The toilet flushes and Sam shoots Dean a questioning look.

“Tequila.” Dean answers, shredding his jacket. He holds up a wad of cash. “Made out with five hundred bucks.”

Addison flops backwards. “Sam got a boner.”

Dean smirks and looks at Sam. “I’m sure she’ll let you borrow some lotion.”

Sam shoots him an annoyed look as he climbs out underneath Addison’s legs. “Why’d you let her get so drunk?”

“Hey, she was the one who convinced the frat guys to keep buying ‘em for her.”

“No.” Addison slurs, waving a hand. “He — he got one the, uh, the other day. When we were locked…up.” She slowly pushes herself up and pauses. “I don’t feel so good.” Dean helps her up and over to the bathroom. Sam sighs and flops back on his bed.


	16. Shadow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, but I own the original characters.

Dean parks the Impala across the street from the apartment they were going to check out. The three of them get out, dressed in matching jumpsuits to pose as employees for an alarm system company. Dean grabs a toolbox from the trunk and they start heading towards the building. “All right, Dean. This is the place," Sam says.

"You know, I've gotta say Dad, me, and Addison did just fine without these stupid costumes. I feel like a high school drama dork. What was that play that you did? What was it —  _Our Town_. Yeah, you were good, it was cute," Dean replies.

Sam sighs. "Look, you wanna pull this off or not?"

"I'm just saying, these outfits cost hard-earned money, okay?"

Sam scoffs. “Whose?" 

"Mine," Addison answers and grins. "Cause I win it.”

* * *

"Thanks for letting us look around," Sam tells the landlady as they enter the apartment.

"Well, the police said they were done with the place, so…" the landlady replies and they walk further into the apartment where Addison sees the blood spattered over the white carpet. "You three said you were with the alarm company?"

"That's right," Dean answers.

"Well, no offense, but your alarm's about as useful as boobs on a man."

Addison holds in a laugh and nods. "That's why we're here. We want to prevent this from happening again and the best way to start is so see what went wrong."

"Now, ma'am, you found the body," Sam asks the landlady.

"Yeah."

"Right after it happened?"

"No. Few days later. Meredith's work called - she hadn't shown up. I knocked on the door. That's when I noticed the smell."

"Any windows open? Any sign of break-in," Dean asks next.

"No, windows were locked, front door was bolted. Chain was on the door, we had to cut it just to get in."

"And the alarm didn't go off," Addison asks.

"Like I said, bang-up job your company's doing."

"Mm-hmm. You see any overturned furniture, broken glass, signs of struggle," Sam asks and the landlady shakes her head.

"Everything was in perfect condition — except Meredith."

"And what condition was Meredith in?"

The landlady pauses. "Meredith was all over. In pieces. The guy who killed her must have been some kind of a whack job. But I tell you, if I didn't know any better, I'd have said a wild animal did it."

"Ma'am, do you mind if we take some time? Give this place a once-over?"

"Oh, well, go right ahead. Knock yourself out," the landlady walks out and the three of them quickly get to work.

* * *

Addison holds up the EMF meter and scans the apartment. "So, a killer walks in and out of the apartment — no weapons, no prints, nothing," Dean comments.

"I'm telling ya, the minute I found that article, I knew this was our kind of gig," Sam replies as the EMF meter Addison was holding starts beeping.

"I think I agree with you," Dean tells him, walking over to stand behind her.

"So, you talked to the cops?"

Dean grins. "Uh, yeah. I spoke to Amy, a, uh, charming, perky officer of the law."

"And what did you find out," Addison asks, sending Dean an amused look.

"Uh, nothing we don't already know. Except for one thing they're keeping out of the papers."

"What's that?"

"Meredith's heart was missing."

"Her heart?"

"Yeah. Her heart."

"So, what do you think did it to her," Sam asks.

"Well, the landlady said it looked like an animal attack. Maybe it was a werewolf?"

"No. The lunar cycle doesn't match up. And if it was any kind of creature, something would have been left behind. Most likely case is a spirit," Addison explains and Dean stares at the blood on the carpet.

"See if you can find any masking tape around."

Addison's standing next to Sam watching as Dean finishes taping the blood spots together to form some kind of symbol. "Ever see that symbol before," Sam asks.

"No," she answers and Dean shakes his head, standing up. 

"Me neither," Sam replies and they exchange a look.

* * *

When Addison enters the bar that night with Sam, she lets out annoyed sigh and finds an empty table, the two of them sitting down. A few minutes later Den walks over and takes a seat. "Did you find anything out, besides the bartender's number," she asks him.

"I'm a professional. I'm offended that you would think that," Dean replies and Addison stares at him. “All right, yeah." Dean sheepishly takes out a napkin and places it on the table.

"You mind doing a little bit of thinking with your upstairs brain, Dean," Sam asks, also annoyed at Dean's behavior.

"Huh? Look, there's nothing to find out. I mean, Meredith worked here, she waited tables, everyone here was her friend. Everybody said she was normal. She didn't do or say anything weird before she died, so — what about that symbol, either of you find anything?"

"Nope, nothing. It wasn't in Dad's journal or in any of the usual books. We'll just have to dig a little deeper, I guess."

"Well, there was a first victim, right? Before Meredith?"

Addison nods and pulls a newspaper clipping out from her bag. "Name was Ben Swardstorm. He was found last month mutilated in his town house. The door was locked and the alarm was on."

"Is there any connection between the two of them?"

"No, not yet anyway. Ben was a banker, Meredith was a waitress. Never met, didn't know any of the same people. They were from completely different worlds."

"So, to recap, the only successful intel we've scored so far is the bartender's phone number," Dean replies and Addison rolls her eyes as Sam leaves the table. "Sam?" They watch as he makes his way over to a table where a blonde woman was sitting.

"Who is that," Addison asks and Dean shrugs.

"No idea. But I say lets go find out," Dean stands up and heads over to Sam, Addison following after him.

"Well, they're not here right now, but what about you, Meg? I thought you were going to California," Sam says as they reach him and the blonde.

"Oh, I did. I came, I saw, I conquered. Oh and I met what's-his-name, something Michael Murray at a bar," Meg replies.

"Who?"

"Oh, it doesn't matter. Anyway, the whole scene got old, so I'm living here for a while," Meg answers and Dean clears his throat, but they don't look at the two of them.

"You're from Chicago?"

"No, Massachusetts — Andover. Gosh, Sam, what are the odds we'd run into each other?"

"Yeah, I know, I thought I'd never see you again."

"Well, I'm glad you were wrong," Meg says and Dean clears his throat, but louder, causing the blonde to look at them. "Dude, cover your mouth."

"Yeah, um, I'm sorry, Meg. This is, uh, this is my brother, Dean and our friend, Addison."

"This is Dean," Meg disbelievingly asks.

"Yeah."

"So, you've heard of me," Dean smugly asks.

Meg snorts. "Oh, yeah. I've heard of you. Nice — the way you treat your brother like luggage."

"Sorry?"

"Why don't you let him do what he wants to do? Stop dragging him over God's green earth."

"Meg, it's all right," Sam says.

"Dean, let's go get a drink," Addison grabs Dean's arm and pulls him away from the awkward situation.

"Who is that," Dean asks her and she shrugs.

"I don't know," Addison answers and Dean sends her a look. "I don't. If I knew, I'd tell you. I'm wondering who that is too, Dean. So, go buy me a drink and when we leave, just grill Sam. Like always."

* * *

Addison's leaning against Dean as they walk out of the bar with Sam. "Who the hell was she," Dean demands, about the blonde, Meg, who they had met.

"I don't really know. I only met her once. Meeting up with her again? I don't know, man, it's weird," Sam answers.

"And what was she saying? I treat you like luggage? What, were you bitching about me to some chick? That's what Ads for."

"Look, I'm sorry, Dean. It was when we had that huge fight when I was in that bus stop in Indiana. But that's not important, just listen—"

"Well, is there any truth to what she's saying? I mean, am I keeping you against your will, Sam?"

"No, of course not. Now, would you listen?"

"What?"

"I think there's something strange going on here, Dean."

"Yeah, tell me about it. She wasn't even that into me," Dean replies and Addison smacks him in the arm.

"No, man, I mean like our kind of strange. Like, maybe even a lead."

"What do you mean, Sam," Addison asks him.

"I met Meg weeks ago, literally on the side of the road. And now, I run into her in some random Chicago bar? I mean, the same bar where a waitress was slaughtered by something supernatural? You don't think that's a little weird?"

Addison shrugs. "Random coincidence, maybe. It does happen."

"Yeah, it happens, but not to us. Look, I could be wrong, I'm just saying that there's something about this girl that I can't quite put my finger on."

"Well, I bet you'd like to. I mean, maybe she's not a suspect, maybe you've got a thing for her, huh," Dean asks and Addison shakes her head as Sam laughs. "Maybe you're thinking a little too much with your upstairs brain, huh?"

"Addison, can you check and see if there's really a Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts and find something on that symbol on Meredith's floor," Sam asks her.

"Sure. What are you going to do through," Addison replies.

"I'm gonna watch Meg."

Dean laughs. "Yeah, you are."

"I just wanna see what's what. Better safe than sorry."

"Alright, you little pervert."

"Dude."

"We're going, we're going," Dean tells him and drags Addison across the street.

* * *

Addison's towel drying her hair when her phone rings and Dean answers it, putting it on speaker. "Hey," comes Sam's voice and she takes a seat in the empty chair in the motel room.

"Let me guess. You're lurking outside that poor girl's apartment, aren't you," Dean asks and Addison rolls her eyes.

"No. Yes."

"You've got a funny way of showing your affection."

"Did you find anything on her or what?"

"Sorry, Sam. Meg Masters is listed in the Andover phonebook and went to the local high school," Addison answers.

"Why don't you go knock on her door and, uh, invite her to a poetry reading or whatever it is you do, huh," Dean suggests.

"What about the symbol? Any luck," Sam asks, ignoring Dean's comment.

"Yeah. It's Zoroastrian. Over two thousand years old and it's a sigil for a Daeva," Addison tells him.

"What's a Daeva?"

"Means 'demon of darkness.' The Zoroastrian demons are savage, animalistic. Like combing Freddy, Michael Myers, and Jason all into one super demonic killer. Anyway, the important thing is that Daevas have to be summoned."

"So, someone's controlling it?"

"Yeah and it's pretty dangerous. They have a nasty tendency to bite the hand that feeds them."

"So, what do they look like?"

"Don't know. They haven't been seen for an extremely long time. Like between cavemen and-"

"Why don't you give that girl a private strip-o-gram," Dean interrupts and Addison stares at him.

"Bite me."

"No, bite her. Don't leave teeth marks, though. Sam? Are you—"

Addison laughs when a dial tone comes from the phone. "Private strip-o-gram," she asks and Dean grins. "See if you can get your new friend at the police precinct to give you copies of the entire reports from the two victims."

* * *

"So, hot little Meg is summoning the Daeva," Dean asks, as they sit around the motel room and explaining what they had found, Sam going first.

"Looks like she was using that black altar to control the thing," Sam replies.

"So, Sammy's got a thing for the bad girl. And what's the deal with that bowl again?"

"She was talking into it. The way witches used to scry into crystal balls or animal entrails. She was communicating with someone."

"Did you hear who," Addison asks him.

"No, but it's someone who's giving her orders. Someone who's coming to that warehouse," Sam answers and Addison walks over to the table, grabbing the files that Dean had gotten.

"This thing just got a hell of a lot interesting," Addison says, taking a seat next to Dean on the bed. "Our first victim spent his entire life in Chicago, but wasn't born here." She hands him the birth certificate that was in the file.

"Lawrence," Dean disbelievingly asks her.

"Yep and Meredith, victim number two was adopted." Addison hands Sam the other birth certificate.

"Holy crap," Sam comments and Addison nods. "I mean, it is where the demon killed Mom. That's where everything started. So, you think Meg's tied up with the demon?"

"There is a possibility."

"But I don't understand. What's the significance of Lawrence? And how do these Daeva things fit in?"

"No idea. But I say we destroy the altar, take Meg, and rip a page out of the CIA's enhanced interrogation handbook."

"No, we can't. We shouldn't tip her off. We've gotta stake out that warehouse. We've gotta see who, or what, is showing up to meet her."

"Either way, I'll tell you guys one thing. I don't think we should do this alone," Dean tells them.

* * *

Addison's sitting on the bed watching as Dean walks around the room, talking on his phone, "We think we've got a serious lead on the thing that killed Mom. So, uh, this warehouse — it's 1435 West Erie. Dad, if you get this, get to Chicago as soon as you can."

He hangs up as Sam walks in, carrying bags filled with weapons from the Impala. "Voicemail," Sam asks.

"Yeah." Dean watches as Sam sets the bags down on the nearest bed. "Geez, what all you'd get?"

"I ransacked the trunk. Holy water, every weapon that I could think of, exorcism rituals from about a half dozen religions. I'm not sure what to expect, so I guess we should just expect everything."

Dean tosses Addison a gun and she catches it. The room goes silent as they start to get ready, each lost in their thoughts. "Big night," Dean comments.

"Yeah. You nervous," Sam asks.

"No. Why? Are you?"

"No. No way. God, could you imagine if we actually found that damn thing? That demon."

"Maybe we shouldn't jump to any conclusions," Addison says.

"I know. I'm just saying, what if we did? What if this whole thing was over tonight? Man, I'd sleep for a month. Go back to school — be a person again."

"You wanna go back to school," Dean asks him and Addison lets out a sigh, knowing that an argument was going to start.

"Yeah, once we're done hunting the thing," Sam answers.

Dean shakes his head. "Huh."

"Why? Is there something wrong with that?"

"No. No, it's, uh, great. Good for you."

"I mean, what are you two gonna do when it's all over?"

"It's never gonna be over. There's gonna be others. There's always gonna be something to hunt."

"But there's got to be something that you want for yourself-"

"Yeah, I don't want you to leave the second this thing's over, Sam," Dean says, walking over to a dresser and away from Sam.

"Dude, what's you problem?"

Silence falls over the room and Addison starts to say something but Dean turns back around to face Sam. "Why do you think I drag you everywhere? Huh? I mean, why do you think I came and got you at Stanford in the first place?"

"Cause Dad was in trouble. Cause you wanted to find the thing that killed Mom."

"Yes, that, but its more than that, man…You and me and Dad — I mean, I want us — I want us to be together again. I want us to be a family again."

"Dean, we are a family. I'd do anything for either of you. But things will never be the way they were before."

"Could be," Dean softly says and Addison sits there, wanting to just wrap him in a hug.

"I don't want them to be. I'm not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over, you're gonna have to let me go my own way," Sam tells him and an awkward silence falls over the room.

* * *

Addison keeps in a comment as they climb the elevator gate. When she reaches the top with Dean and Sam, she sees Meg standing in front of the altar, saying something that she didn't understand. They squeeze through a space between the wall and gate, Dean helping her up and each of them pull out their guns, quietly moving to the other side of the room before hiding behind some crates.

"Guys," Meg says and Addison sends them a look. "Hiding's a little bit childish, don't you think?"

"Well that didn't work out like I planned," Dean comments and Meg faces them.

"Why don't you come out?" They leave their hiding spot and Addison looks around the room. The only light seemed to be coming from the numerous candles. "Sam, I have to say, this puts a real crimp in our relationship."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Sam replies.

"Where are the Daevas," Addison asks Meg.

"Around. You know, that shotgun's not gonna do much good," Meg answers.

"Oh, don't worry, sweetheart. The shotgun's not for the demon," Dean tells her.

"So, who is it, Meg? Who's coming? Who are you waiting for," Sam asks.

"You," Meg responds and something tosses Addison into a pile crates on the other side of the room, knocking her out and scratching her face.

* * *

With a groan, Addison slowly wakes up only to find that she's tied to a post with Sam and Dean tied to posts on either side of her, with Meg sitting in front of Sam. "Hey, Sam? Don't take this the wrong way, but your girlfriend is a bitch," Dean says.

"This, the whole thing, was a trap. Running into you at the bar, following you here, hearing what you had to say. It was all a set up, wasn't it," Sam asks Meg, who just laughs. "And that the victims were from Lawrence?"

"It's doesn't mean anything. It was just to draw you in, that's all," Meg replies.

"So, you just killed those two people for nothing, didn't you," Addison asks and Meg turns to her.

"Baby, I've killed a lot more for a lot less."

"You trapped us. Good for you. It's Miller time. But why don't you kill us already," Dean says.

"Not very quick on the uptake, are we? This trap isn't for you."

"Dad. It's a trap for Dad," Sam answers and Meg smiles.

"Oh, sweetheart - you're dumber than you look. Cause even if Dad was in town, which he is not, he wouldn't walk into something like this. He's too good," Dean counters.

"He is pretty good. I'll give you that," Meg replies and walks over to him, taking a seat on Dean's lap. "But you see, he has one weakness."

"What's that?"

Meg smirks. "You. He lets his guard down around his boys, lets his emotions cloud his judgment. I happen to know he is in town. And he'll come and try to save you. And then the Daevas will kill everybody — nice and slow and messy."

"Well, I've got news for ya. It's gonna take a lot more than some shadow to kill him."

"Oh, the Daevas are in the room here. They're invisible. Their shadows are just the only part you can see."

"Why you doing this, Meg? What kind of deal you got worked out here, huh? And with who," Sam asks.

"I'm doing this for the same reasons you do what you do. Loyalty. Love. Like the love you had for Mommy and Jess."

"Go to hell."

"Baby, I'm already there," Meg responds and walks over to Sam, then straddles his lap. "Come on, Sam. There's no need to be nasty. I think we both know how you really feel about me. You know, I saw you watching me - changing in my apartment. Turned you on, didn't it?"

"Get a room," Addison comments.

"I didn't mind. I liked that you were watching me. Come on, Sammy. You and I can still have a little dirty fun," Meg continues, ignoring her remark and kissing Sam's neck. Addison rolls her eyes and looks at Dean.

"You wanna have fun? Go ahead then. I'm a little tied up right now," Sam retorts and a noise coming from Dean causes Addison and Meg to look at him. Meg gets off Sam and walks behind the post that Dean was tied to, grabbing something and tossing it away, before heading back over to Sam.

"Now, were you just trying to distract me while your brother cuts free?"

"No. No. That's because I have a knife of my own." Sam grabs Meg and head butts her.

"Sam! The altar," Addison shouts and Sam runs over to it, overturning it. The Daeva appears and grabs Meg, dragging her across the floor and out the large window. Sam cuts the rope around her hands and does the same with Dean. Addison stands up and touches her face, wincing at the pain from the cuts.

"So, I guess the Daevas didn't like being bossed around."

"Apparently so," Addison deadpans.

"Hey, Sam," Dean starts and Sam looks at him. "Next time you wanna get laid, find a girl that's not so buckets-o-crazy, huh?"

"Or just open the yellow pages and look for an escort," Addison adds.

* * *

"You should have just left it in the car," Addison tells Sam as the three of them walk down the hallway to the motel room, him carrying the bag of weapons and she tiredly leaning against Dean who was silent.

"I said it before and I'll say it again. Better safe than sorry," Sam replies as Dean opens the door and they walk in, seeing what appeared to be a man standing by the window.

"Hey," Dean shouts and the man turns around as Sam turns on the light, revealing it to be John. "Dad?"

"Hey boys, Addison," John softly greets and Dean walks over to him, embracing his father in a hug. Addison follows after Dean and gives the man she had come to think of as a good friend a hug. She releases him and stands by Dean. "Hi, Sam."

"Hey, Dad," Sam softly replies and sets the bag of weapons on the ground.

"Dad, it was a trap. I didn't know, I'm sorry," Dean tells John.

"It's all right. I thought it might've been," John says.

"Were you there?"

John nods. "Yeah, I got there just in time to see the girl take the swan dive. She was the bad guy, right?"

"Yes, sir," all three of them answer.

"Good. Well, it doesn't surprise me. It's tried to stop me before."

"The demon has," Sam asks.

"It knows I'm close. It knows I'm gonna kill it."

"How," Dean asks and John smiles.

"I'm working on that."

"Let us come with you. We'll help," Sam begs and Addison sees the look that Dean sends his younger brother.

"No, Sam. Not yet. Just try to understand. This demon is a scary son of a bitch. I don't want you caught in the crossfire. I don't want you hurt."

"Dad, you don't have to worry about us."

"Of course I do. I'm your father. Listen, Sammy, last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight."

Sam nods. "Yes, sir."

"It's good to see you again. It's been a long time."

"Too long," Sam agrees and the two of them embrace in a hug. The pull apart and they look at each other before a shadow demon throws John into the cabinets.

"No," Dean yells before being thrown into a wall. The demon tosses Addison into a wall and she lets out a scream when it scratches her shoulder.

"Shut your eyes! These things are shadow demons, so let's light 'em up," Sam shouts and Addison closes her eyes as a bright light and smoke fills the room. She feels someone grab her arm and pull her up before running out of the room. They don't stop running until they get to the alley where Dean had parked the Impala and she notices John's truck parked further up the alley. "Alright, come on. We don't have much time. As soon as the flare's out, they'll be back."

"Wait, wait. Sam, wait. Dad, you can't come with us," Dean says and Addison looks at him.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"You three...you're beat to hell," John comments.

"We'll be all right," Dean replies.

"Dean, we should stick together. We'll go after those demons…" Sam starts before Dean interrupts him.

"Sam! Listen to me! We almost got Dad killed in there. Don't you understand? They're not gonna stop, they're gonna try again. They're gonna use us to get to him. I mean, Meg was right. Dad's vulnerable when he's with us. He's - he's stronger without us around."

"Dad, no. After everything, after all the time we spent looking for you...please. I gotta be a part of this fight."

"Sammy, this fight is just starting. And we are all gonna have a part to play. For now, you've got to trust me, son. Okay, you've gotta let me go," John tells him and Sam pats John's shoulder. John gives Dean a look and then gives Addison the same look, before walking to his truck. "Be careful." He gets in his truck and drives away.

"We should go," Addison softly says and gets in the backseat of the Impala, where Sam had tossed the bag of weapons.

* * *

Another motel room in the middle of nowhere. Sam had passed out after Addison stitched up the cuts on his face. She and Dean had retreated into the bathroom where he had stitched up the cuts on her face and shoulder. He sits down on the toilet and she cleans the cuts on his face. The silence between them is a comfort. When she finishes, Addison moves to step away, but his hands on her hips hold her in place. Dean stands up and pulls her against his chest. She looks up at him. Her eyes close as he leans down.

The kiss is slow, yet filled with comfort. It was a silent conservation between the two of them. Dean's hand slides under her cami and rubs her back. She grabs the bottom of his t-shirt and he pulls it off. Her clothes along with the rest of his land on the tiled floor. Addison turns on the water and steps under the warm stream. He joins her, his arm going around her waist and he's pulling against his chest once more. His hands tilt her head back and she savors the water washing away everything.

Addison softly sighs as he runs a soapy rag over her body. She always knew that Dean cared about her and he had always been a man that let his actions speak for themselves. And this spoke volumes. When he finishes, she takes the rag from him and gently washes all the dirt and grime away.

Dean had always been the one to take care of everyone. He had been since that night when his father had put Sam into his arms and told him to run. He had always pushed people away when they tried to take care of him. The only times anyone succeeded was when he was physically too weak to do anything and that rarely happened to him. Addison was the only person he ever felt comfortable taking care of him. He wonders if it has to do with the fact that they've known for so long or if it's more of the fact that he knows she'll do it no matter what he says.

As the water washes away the last of the soap, Dean pulls her against his chest and Addison tightly embraces him. They stand there for a moment, then Dean turns off the water as Addison retrieves a couple of towels. She hands him one before wrapping one around her body and walks out of the room. She reenters a moment later, carrying a pair of his boxer briefs and one of his t-shirts, which she pulls on. Dean rolls his eyes as he finishes drying off. Addison was always stealing his shirts and sleeping in them or wearing them when they desperately needed to do laundry.

Addison notices the smirk on Dean's face when he realizes that she wasn't wearing anything underneath the t-shirt. She ignores him and crawls into bed, knowing that he was okay. Dean flops down the bed next to her. She rolls into his side and his arm wraps around her shoulders. Her arm rest across his waist and she buries her in the crook of his neck. He presses his lips to the top of her head and they fall into an easy sleep.


	17. Hell House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, even through I wish I did. I, however, own the original characters.

Dean glances at Sam, who was asleep in the front seat, then turns back to the empty east Texas highway. The low music filled the Impala along with soft beating of rain and the hum of the wind shield wipers. He glances in the rearview mirror to find Addison asleep in the backseat. Dean knew that if he slammed on the brakes, she'd fall onto the floor. Another quick glance at his brother and Dean smirks. He grabs a plastic spoon from an empty plastic cup and puts in Sam's mouth. His smirk grows when Sam doesn't wake up and he snaps a picture using his cell phone.

Dean laughs as he turns up the music. "A fire of unknown origin took my baby away!" Sam snaps awake, spitting out the spoon in the process. Dean keeps laugh and drums along to the music.

Sam glares at him and turns down the music. "Haha, very funny."

"Sorry. Not a lot of scenery here in east Texas. You kind of gotta make your own."

"Man, we're not kids anymore, Dean. We're not gonna start that crap up again."

Dean smirks. "Start what up?"

"That prank stuff. It's stupid and it always escalates."

"Oh, what's the matter, Sammy? You afraid you're gonna get a little Nair in your shampoo again, huh?"

"All right. Just remember, you started it."

"Oh, bring it on, Baldy."

"Where are we, anyway," Sam asks, effectively changing the topic.

"Few hours outside of Richardson. Give me the lowdown again."

Sam grabs a stack off papers off the dashboard. "All right, about a month or two ago, this group of kids goes poking around in this local haunted house."

"Haunted by what?"

"Apparently, a pretty misogynistic spirit. Legend goes, it takes girls and string 'em up in the rafters. Anyway, this group of kids see this dead girl hanging in the cellar."

"Anybody ID the corpse?"

"Well, that's the thing. By the time the cops got there, the body was gone. So, cops are saying the kids were just yanking chains."

"Well, maybe the cops are right."

"Maybe, but I read a couple of the kids' firsthand accounts. They seem pretty sincere."

"Where'd you read these accounts?"

Sam looks down the papers. "Well, I knew we were gonna be passing through Texas. So, uh, last night I searched some local paranormal websites. And I found one."

"And what's it called," Dean amusedly asks.

"Hell Hounds Lair dot com," Sam reluctantly tells him.

"Let me guess, streaming live out of Mom's basement."

Sam laughs. "Yeah, probably."

"Yeah. Most of those websites wouldn't know a ghost if it bit 'em in the persqueeter."

"Look, we let Dad take off, which was a mistake, by the way. And now, we don't know where the hell he is, so, in the meantime, we've got to find ourselves something to hunt. There's no harm checking this thing out."

Dean sighs. He knew Sam had point. “All right. So, where do we find these kids?"

"Same place you always find kids in a town like this," Sam answers, tossing the papers back on the dashboard. He glances at Addison. "How is she still asleep?"

"You didn't know," Dean amusedly says. Sam stares at him. "Addison is part bear. She's hibernates." Sam laughs and shakes his head.

* * *

Addison pulls her jacket close as she climbs out of the Impala. They were at a local record store, where someone named Craig supposedly worked. The three of them had talked to the kids that had found the body, but none of their stories were the same. The only common element was Craig. They enter the store to find a young man standing behind the counter. He was reading a magazine. Dean immediately picks up one of the records. "Can I help you with anything," the man asks as they look around.

"Yeah, are you Craig Thurston?” Sam asks.

"I am."

"Well, we're reporters with the  _Dallas Morning News_. I'm Dean, this is Sam and Addison," Dean says walking over to the counter.

"No way. Yeah, I'm a writer too. I write for my school's lit magazine."

"Oh, good for you, Morrison."

"We're doing an article on local hauntings and rumor has it you might know about one," Sam says.

"You mean the Hell House," Craig asks.

"That's the one," Addison says, smiling at Craig.

"I didn't think there was anything to the story."

"Well, why don't you just tell us the story?"

Craig smiles back at Addison. "Well, supposedly, back in the thirties, this farmer, Mordechai Murdoch, used to live in the house with his six daughters. It was during the Depression. His crops were failing. He didn't have enough money to even feed his own children. So, I guess that's when he went off the deep end."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he figured it was best if his girls died quick rather than starve to death. So, he attacked them. They screamed, begged for him to stop. But he just strung them up, one after another. And then, when he was all finished, he turned around and hung himself. Now, they say that his spirit is trapped in the house forever, stringing up any other girl who goes inside."

"Where'd you hear all this," Dean asks.

"My cousin, Dana told me. I don't know where she heard it from. You've gotta realize I didn't believe this for a second."

"But you do now," Addison asks.

"I don't know what the hell to think. Guys, I'll tell you exactly what I told the police, okay? That girl was real and she was dead. This was not a prank. I swear to God, I don't wanna go anywhere near that house ever again, okay?"

The three of them exchange a look. "Thanks," Dean tells him, then they walk out.

* * *

The Hell House was an small, old building in the middle of a big empty field. Grey clouds were over the area, but it had stopped raining. "Can't say I blame the kid," Sam comments.

"Yeah, so much for curb appeal," Dean replies. He pulls out the EMF meter and it immediately starts beeping.

"You can't already have something," Addison says.

"Yeah. The EMF's no good." Dean motions to the nearby telephone pole. "I think that thing's still got a little juice in it. It's screwing with all the readings."

"Yeah, that'd do it," Sam says.

Dean puts the EMF meter up and starts towards the house. "Yep. Come on, let's go." They enter house. Dean shoots Addison a look when she decides to stay close to him. She ignores him. They both knew that ghosts were much more active at night then during the day. But it didn't stop her from being a little worried that the ghost would make a daytime appearance and go right for her. There were symbols all over the walls. "Looks like Old Man Murdoch was a bit of a tagger during his time."

"And after his time too," Sam comments. He was examining one of the symbols. "The reversed cross has been used by Satanists for centuries but this sigil of sulfur didn't show up in San Francisco until the sixties."

Addison and Dean stare at him. "This is exactly why you never get laid." Dean looks back at the wall. "What about this one? You seen this one before?"

Sam walks over and takes a picture using his phone. "No."

"I have. Somewhere."

Addison touches the wall. She frowns feeling the fresh paint. "Well, the paint's a little fresh."

"I don't know, Sam. I mean, I hate to agree with authority figures of any kind, but the cops might be right about this one."

"Yeah, maybe," Sam reluctantly agrees. A noise comes from another room. Addison grabs Dean's arm. They walk over to a door leading to the next room. Addison stands back, letting Dean and Sam go in first. They kick down the door to see two men.

The men carried camera equipment and one of them had a flashlight on his head. "Cut," one of them says. "Just a couple humans. What are you guys doing here?"

"What the hell are you doing here," Dean counters.

"Uh, we belong here. We're professionals."

Addison pushes Dean to the side. "Professional what," she asks, brightly smiling at them.

"Paranormal investigators." He steps forward and hands them business cards. "There ya go. My phone number's on there."

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me," Dean mutters.

"Ed Zeddmore and Harry Spangler. Hell Hounds Lair dot com," Sam reads. "You guys run that website."

"And, uh, we know who you guys are too," Ed says.

Sam and Dean exchange a look over Addison's head. "Oh, yeah?"

"Amateurs. Looking for ghosts and cheap thrills."

"Yeah," Harry agrees. "So, if you guys don't mind, we're trying to conduct a serious scientific investigation here."

"Yeah? What do you got so far," Dean amusedly asks.

"Uh, Harry, why don't you tell 'em about EMF?"

"What's EMF," Addison innocently asks, looking between Ed and Harry.

"Electromagnetic field," Harry tells her. He walks over to where one of their bags was sitting on a counter and takes out an EMF meter. "Spectral entities can cause energy fluctuations that can be read with an EMF detector, like this bad boy right here." The EMF meter lights up and starts making a noise. "Whoa, whoa. That's 2.8 MG."

"2.8," Ed repeats, looking at the meter.

"It's hot in here."

"Wow," Addison says.

"Huh," Dean says. "So, have you guys ever really seen a ghost before or..."

"Once. We were, uh, we were investigating this old house and we saw a vase fall right off the table," Ed tells them.

"By itself," Harry says.

"Well, we didn't actually see it, but we heard it. And something like that, it, uh, it changes you."

"Yeah, it totally does," Addison comments.

"Yeah. I think I get the picture. We should go. Let them get back to work," Dean says, grabbing Addison's arm.

"Yeah, you should," Harry agrees. He smiles at Addison. "But you're more than welcomed to stay."

Dean pushes Addison out of the room. "Sam."

"Yeah, work," Ed amusedly says. He laughs as Dean and Sam walk out. "I'm sorry. That pot we smoked gave me the giggles. Woo!"

* * *

Dean was leaning against the lamp post, looking every inch the bad ass he was. Addison stood next to him, playing a game on her phone. "What was up with you and those nerds," he asks.

Addison shoves her phone into her pocket and looks at him. "You mean Ed and Harry?" Dean shrugs. She smirks. "Yeah, you know me, Dean. I get all hot and bothered by a couple of geeks."

"Hey." They both look to Sam walking over to them carrying a small notebook.

"Hey. What do you got," Dean asks as they start heading to where the Impala was parked.

"Well, I couldn't find a Mordechai, but I did turn up a Martin Murdoch who lived in that house in the thirties. He did have children, but only two of 'em — both boys. And there was no record he ever killed anybody."

"Huh."

"What about you guys?"

"Well, since those kids didn't give a good description of the dead girl, we hit up the police station. There's no one missing. It's like that girl never existed," Addison explains as they reach the Impala.

"Dude, come on, man. We did our digging, this one's a bust, all right? For all we know those Hell Hound boys made up the whole thing," Dean says.

"Yeah, all right," Sam says.

"So, I say we find ourselves a bar and some beers and leave the legend to the locals." Dean climbs into the Impala. Addison opens the back door and starts to climb in but Sam grabs her arm. Dean turns on the Impala. Loud music erupts from the speakers and the windshield wipers quickly move. He turns everything off as Sam and Addison climb in, both laughing."What the fuck?" Sam draws a line in the air and points to himself. "That's all you got? That's weak. That is Bush league."

* * *

Addison, Dean, and Sam walk up to the house the next morning. Addison had been out getting breakfast when she heard the ambulance and sheriff cars speed past the small coffee shop. A few people were there. "What happened," Dean asks a random person.

"Couple of cops say that poor girl hung herself in the house," the person answers.

"Suicide," Sam asks.

"Yeah. But she was a straight A student with a full ride to UT too. It just don't make sense."

The person walks away. "What do you think?"

"I think maybe we missed something. We should come back tonight. Cops shouldn't be here then."

"Count me out then," Addison comments.

“Ads--"

"In case you've forgotten, Dean, the..." Addison trails off as a sheriff walks past them. "I'm kinda it's type. So, I'm not going in there. But you guys have fun."

* * *

Dean glances at Addison. She was lying on the bed next to him, her feet by his head, reading some magazine. After the night before, where he and Sam had ran into Mordechai at the house, it was time for research. Sam was doing his thing on his computer while Dean kept drawing the symbol over and over. "What the hell is this symbol," he asks aloud. "It's bugging the hell out of me. This whole damn job is bugging me. I thought the legend said that Mordechai only goes after chicks."

"He does," Sam replies, not looking up.

"Right. Well, then that explains why he went after you, but why me?"

"Maybe he thinks that you're a girl too," Addison comments.

Sam laughs causing Dean to glare at him. He shakes his head. "The legend also says he hung him self, but you see those slit wrists," Sam says. Dean nods turning back to the drawing. "What's up with that? And the axe too. I mean, ghosts are usually pretty strict, right? Following the same patterns over and over?"

"Maybe it's not a ghost," Addison comments. "That would explain why he changed."

"I don't know. But I'm telling you the way the story goes — wait a minute..."

"What," Dean and Addison ask at the same time.

"Someone added a new post into the Hell Hounds' site. Listen to this. 'They say Mordechai Murdoch was really a Satanist who chopped up his victims with an axe before slitting his own wrists. Now, he's imprisoned in the house for eternity.' Where the hell is this going?"

Dean climbs off the bed. He smacks Addison's ass with the notepad. "I don't know, but I think I might have just figured out where it all started."

* * *

Addison shakes her head as she climbs out of the Impala. After their visit to see Craig, who finally told them the truth about the house, they had split up. Sam had went to do research while she decided to join Dean on an errand he had to do. "You're two grown men participating in a prank war.” Addison murmurs.

Dean ignores her as they walk into the empty motel room. They could hear the shower running. "Hey, we're back!” he shouts.

“Hey!" Sam yells back. The shower turns off. Addison rolls her eyes as Dean starts sprinkling powder over Sam's clothes. "Where were you?"

"Oh, we went out."

"So, I think I might have a theory about what's going on."

"What's that?” Addison asks, tossing her jacket onto her's and Dean's bed.

"What if Mordechai is a tulpa?"

Dean shoots Addison a confused look and she shrugs. "A tulpa?” Dean asks.

The bathroom door opens and Dean quickly shoves the packet of itching in his pocket. Addison adverts her gaze after seeing that Sam only had a towel wrapped around his waist, but not before she manages to sneak a peek at Sam's muscular chest. "Yeah, a Tibetan thought form."

"Yeah, I know what a tulpa is. Hey, why don't you get dressed? We'll go grab something to eat." Dean grabs Addison's arm and drags her into the bathroom. He traps her between the door and himself, with his hands on either side of her head. She stares at him, a challenge on her face. Daring him to do something while knowing that Sam was in the other room. And he does, by pressing his lips against hers.

While he and Sam had prank wars, they had these battles of seeing who could rile the other up the most. It had started when they had been on the road alone. Addison had always been the one who could last longer, but she only had a few up on him. Her arms wrap around his neck, she presses her body against his. When she feels Dean's hand starting to unbutton her jeans, she grabs his wrist. "Not this week.” Addison breathes.

Dean stares at for a second, then frowns. "I thought it was next week."

"One, it's weird that you know when my period is. And secondly, I went from pill to patch a few months ago which changed things.” Addison explains. She pats his chest, a smirk on her face. "Have fun." She turns and walks out of the bathroom. Sam looks at her with a curious look on his face. "You should be lucky that I'm remaining neutral in your prank war."

* * *

Addison blows on her cup of coffee as she sits down at the table. She glares at Dean when he plops down next to her, bumping her arm in the process. Sam sits down across from them, taking out his laptop. Dean smirks when Sam shifts around in his seat. "Hey, what's your problem?"

"Nothing. I'm fine," Sam answers.

"Okay," Addison says before they can continue. "What about the tulpas?"

"Okay, uh, so there was this incident in Tibet in 1915. A group of monks visualized a golem in their heads. They meditate on it so hard, they bring the thing to life — out of thin air."

"So," Dean asks.

"That was twenty monks. Imagine what ten thousand web surfers could do. I mean, Craig starts a story about Mordechai and it spreads, goes online. Now there are countless people all believing in the bastard."

"So, Mordechai's real because there's a bunch of nerds online that believe in him," Addison reasons.

"I don't know, maybe."

"People believe in Santa Claus. How come I'm not getting hooked up every Christmas," Dean asks.

"Cause you're on the naughty list," Addison tells him.

Dean smirks. "And you're right there with me, Ads."

"No, I'm on the nice list."

Sam clears his throat as he turns his computer around to face them. A picture of one of the symbols he had taken at the house. "And because of this. That's a Tibetan spirit sigil on the wall of the house. Craig said they were painting symbols from a theology textbook. I bet you they painted this not even knowing what it was. Now, that sigil has been used for centuries - concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass. So, people are on the Hell Hounds' website, staring at the symbol, thinking about Mordechai — I mean, I don't know. But it might be enough to bring a tulpa to life," Sam explains.

"It would explain why he keeps changing," Dean says.

"Right. As the legend changes, people think different things, so Mordechai himself changes, like a game of telephone. That would explain why the rock salt didn't work."

"Yeah, cause he's not a traditional spirit, per se."

Sam moves around in his seat, trying not to scratch himself. "Yeah."

"So, we just remove the sigil from the wall and the website. Then Mordechai goes bye bye bye," Addison says.

"Well, it's not that simple, Ads. You see, once tulpas are created, they take on a life of their own."

"Say, Mordechai is a thought form. Then how the hell are we supposed to kill an idea?"

"Well, it's not gonna be easy with these guys helping us." Sam pulls up a different browser on his computer. "Check out their homepage. Since they posted the video, the number of hits have quadrupled in the last day alone."

"Huh," Dean says, standing up. "I got an idea. Come on."

"You gonna tell us where we're going," Addison asks.

"I gotta find a copy store."

"Man, I think I'm allergic to our soap or something," Sam comments, shoving his laptop into his bag. Dean laughs and starts walking away. "You did this? You're a frigging jerk."

"Oh, yeah!"

* * *

Addison glares at Dean as he pushes her towards the camper. He just smiles back at her. Sam looks between them, confused. He had no idea what had happened between them in the copy store, but Addison seemed to be more grumpy and he knew that Dean was the cause of that. Addison knocks on the door. "Ed, Harry, are you in there?"

The door immediately opens. Ed and Harry grin at Addison, the smiles leave once they see Dean and Sam. "Oh, look at that. Action figures in their original packaging. What a shocker," Dean retorts.

"We need to talk," Addison tells them, after shooting Dean a glare.

"Yeah, um..." Ed trails off. "We're, uh, we're a little bit busy right now. But come back in an hour and, uh..."

"We need you to shut down your website," Dean coldly says.

Ed laughs and turns to Harry. "Man, you know, these guys got us busted last night. We spent the night in a holding cell."

"I had to pee in that cell urinal in front of people," Harry tells them. "And I get stage fright."

"Why should we trust you guys?"

"Look, we all know what we saw last night, what's in the house. But now, thanks to your website, there are thousands of people hearing about Mordechai," Sam says.

"People are gonna keep showing up the house. Somebody could get really hurt," Addison tells them.

"Yeah," Ed replies, his gaze going up and down her body.

"Ed, maybe she has a point," Harry comments.

"No, no."

"Nope."

"Okay, we have an obligation to our fans, to the truth."

"Well, I have an obligation to kick both your little asses right now—" Dean starts, stepping towards the trailer.

"Dean," Addison exclaims, blocking him. She wraps her arms around his waist. "There's no reason to get so worked up about this. Besides, we both know that even I could kick their asses. And Sam could even tell them about that thing we found about Mordechai, but still they're not gonna help us. Maybe we should just go."

Dean reluctantly sighs, wrapping his arm around Addison's shoulders. "Yeah, you're right."

They start to walk back to the Impala, but Ed and Harry follow them. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," Ed says. "What did you say about...hold on a second here."

"Wait, wait. Yeah, what thing about Mordechai, you guys," Harry asks.

Dean shoots Sam a look. "Don't tell 'em, Sam."

"But if they agree to shut their website down, Dean—" Sam begins

"They're not gonna do it. You heard what Addison said."

"No, wait, wait," Ed frantically says. "Don't listen to him, okay? We'll do it." They stop and turn to look at them. "We'll do it."

"It's a secret, Sam."

"Look, it is a pretty big deal, all right? And it wasn't easy to dig up. So, only if we have your word that you'll shut everything down," Sam says, ignoring Dean.

"Totally," Ed agrees, with Harry nodding.

"Alright." Addison pulls a folded piece of paper out of her pocket and hands it to them. "It's a death certificate from the thirties. We got it at the library. Now, according to the coroner, the actual cause of death was a self inflicted gunshot wound."

"That's right, he didn't hang or cut himself," Dean says.

"He shot himself," Harry asks.

"Uh huh. With a .45 pistol. And they say that he's still terrified of 'em," Addison says.

"Yeah, as a matter of fact, they say if you shoot him with a .45 loaded with these special wrought-iron rounds, you could kill the son of a bitch," Dean explains to them. They continue walking to the Impala, not seeing Harry and Ed rush back to their trailer.

* * *

Dean reaches to pull the string on a toy hanging on the wall of the diner they had gone too. Addison grabs his wrist and glares at him. "You pull that again, you'll wake up without your favorite body part," she tells him.

"What is going on between you two," Sam asks, looking between his brother and close friend. "Cause you guys seem to be fighting more than usual."

"Everything's fine, Sam," Addison answers. "This case is frustrating, that's all."

Dean taps Sam's laptop. "They post it yet?" Sam turns the laptop around. "'We have learned from reputable sources that Mordechai Murdoch has a fatal fear of firearms.' Alright. How long do we wait?"

Sam closes his laptop and puts back in his bag. "Long enough for the new story to spread and the legend to change. I figure by nightfall, iron rounds will work on the sucker."

Sam holds up his beer bottle. Dean grins and taps his bottle against Sam's. He tries to put it down, but can't. "You didn't." Sam holds up a small packet of superglue. Addison bursts out laughing and high fives him. "I hate both of you."

* * *

Addison follows Dean and Sam into the Hell House. To her, it looked way more creepier at night than it did in the day time. All of them clutched their guns, ready to shoot whenever Mordechai made an appearance. "I barely have any skin left on my palm," Dean mutters causing Addison to snort in amusement. Dean shines the flashlight in her face and she smiles at him. They reach the door that lead down the basement. "So, you think old Mordechai's home?"

"I don't know," Sam answers.

"Me neither." The three of them turn around to find Ed and Harry, who both jump and shout. Addison and Sam lower their arms. Addison pushes Dean's arm down. "Whoa, whoa! Hey!"

"What are you trying to do," Sam demands. "Get yourself killed?"

"We're just trying to get a book and movie deal okay," Ed replies. Knives sharpening comes from the other side of the door. Dean, Sam, and Addison raise their guns as Ed and Harry step back. "Oh, crap. Uh, guys, you wanna go open that door for us?"

"How about you do it," Addison asks. The door bursts open and Mordechai runs at them, his axe raises over his head. The three of them shoot at him and he disappears in a cloud of black smoke. They run into a different room. "Why didn't it work?"

The sound of something smashing gets their attention. They run back into the other room just as Mordechai disappears again. "Hey," Dean says. "Didn't you guys post that bullshit story we gave you?"

"Of course we did," Ed replies.

"Yeah, but then our server crashed," Harry finishes.

"Yeah."

"So, it didn't take," Dean angrily asks.

"Uh..."

"So, these guns don't work?"

"Yeah."

"Great." Dean turns to Sam and Addison. "Any ideas?"

"We are getting out of here," Harry comments. He grabs the Ed's jacket and tugs him towards the door. "Come on, Ed." They reach the exit as Mordechai appears in the doorway. They scream and run down a hallway. The doors on either side are locked. "Mary and Joseph!"

Mordechai walks down the hallway. He raises the axe. "The power of Christ compels you," Ed shouts. "The power of Christ compels you!"

"Hey," Sam shouts, appearing at the end of the hallway. Mordechai turns around. "Come and get it, you ugly son of a bitch!" Mordechai swings the axe at him, but Sam ducks at the last minute. The second time Mordechai swings that axe, he traps Sam against the wall and presses the axe against his throat. "Get out of here! Now!" Sam tries pushing him away. "Dean! Addison!"

"Hey," Addison shouts, running into the hallway. She holds up a spray can and a lighter. A flame bursts out and Mordechai releases Sam then disappears. Addison helps Sam up and they run into the room where Dean was waiting.

"If Mordechai can't leave the house and we can't kill him, we improvise," Dean explains before tossing a lighter on the floor. They run out of the house as it goes up in flames.

"That's the solution," Sam asks, panting. They hide behind some trees. "Burn the whole damn place to the ground?"

"Well, no one will go in anymore. I mean, look, Mordechai can't haunt a house if there's no house to haunt. It's fast and dirty, but it works."

"But what if the legend changes again and Mordechai is allowed to leave the house?"

"Then we'll just come back," Addison answers.

"Kind of makes you wonder - of all the things we've hunted, how many existed just cause people believed in 'em?" Silence settles over them as they watch the house burn down. Addison leans against Dean. He wraps an arm around her shoulders.

* * *

Addison places her duffle bag in the trunk. They had said goodbye to Ed and Harry, with Sam revealing that he pretended to be a Hollywood producer to trick them and Dean revealing that he had put a dead fish in their backseat as a prank. Dean grabs Addison's wrist before she leaves and she looks up at him. "Tomorrow night," he asks, a knowing look on his face.

Addison sighs and looks at the ground. She looks up at him. "Only if you buy me dinner first."

His arm slides around her waist and pulls her flush against him. A smirk was on his face. "I buy you dinner every night, Ads."

"I was thinking more like Olive Garden or something."

Dean frowns. "Like a date?"

"Yeah." He remains silent. "Dean, we've been down this road before. And as much as I love our fuck buddy relationship...I don't want things to end the same way they did last time. And maybe the only reason we're in this situation is my fault. I accept that. But one of us has to draw a line somewhere or the same thing is gonna happen again."

A silence settles over them. Dean sighs and looks away. Addison stands there, waiting for him to say something. "Hey," Sam says, walking over to them. He awkwardly looks between them, knowing that he had interrupted something.

"Is that the last of it," Dean asks. Addison sighs and walks back into the motel room.

"Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine. Is that the last of it?"

"Yeah." Dean grabs the duffle from him and tosses it in the trunk before climbing into the driver's seat. Addison comes out of the room and closes the door behind her. She shoots Sam a forced smile, then gets in the backseat. Sam stands there for a moment, wondering what he had just interrupted between them.


	18. Something Wicked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, but I own the original characters. 

Addison leans on the front seat. She looks between the brothers. Dean had received a text the day before from John and it caused them to immediately pack up and hit the road. She knew Dean was anxious, especially since it had been a few months since they had last seen John. "Yeah, you probably missed something, that's why," Dean says.

"Dude, I ran LexisNexis, local police reports, newspapers," Sam starts. "I couldn't find a single red flag. Are you sure you got the coordinates right?"

"Yeah, I double checked. It's Fitchburg, Wisconsin. Look, Dad wouldn't have sent us coordinates if it was't important, Sammy."

"Well, I'm telling you, I looked, and all I could find was a big, steaming pile of nothing. If Dad's sending us hunting for something, I don't know what."

"Maybe John sent the text so we could meet up with him," Addison comments and Dean nods in agreement.

Sam scoffs. "Yeah, cause he's been so easy to find up to this point."

"You're a real smart ass, you know that," Dean tells him. "Don't worry, I'm sure there's something in Fitchburg worth killing."

"Yeah? What makes you so sure?"

"Well, because I'm the oldest, which means I'm always right."

"We're the same age, Dean.” Addison counters.

"But I'm still the oldest, Ads."

"Yeah, by a month and a half." She settles back in the seat as they pass a sign that said 'Fitchburg. Population 20, 501.' "But since we're here, we might as well see if there's anything to kill."

* * *

Addison frowns as she stares at the playground. It was empty, which didn't seem right to her. Especially in the afternoon. Sam was leaning against the Impala while Dean decided to go pick up some coffee. "Well, the waitress thinks that the local freemasons are up to something sneaky, but, uh, other than that nobody's heard about anything weird going on," Dean announces, walking over to them carrying a tray with three cups.

"Dean, you got the time," Sam asks.

"Ten after four. Why?"

"What's wrong with this picture?"

Dean looks over at the park. "School's out, isn't it?"

"Uh huh," Addison answers. She grabs the tray and hands it to Sam. She loops her arm around Dean's and starts towards the playground. They walk up to where a woman was sitting on a bench. "Wow, it's quiet out here."

"Yeah, it's a shame," the woman replies.

"Why is that," Dean asks.

"You know, kids getting sick. It's a terrible thing."

"How many kids are sick," Addison asks.

"Just five or six, but serious — hospital serious. A lot of parents are getting pretty anxious. They think it's catching."

"Geez. I hope they're all okay." Addison tugs Dean away from the play ground. "That many kids that sick at the same time..."

Dean nods in agreement. "Definitely odd."

* * *

Addison, Dean, and Sam enter the local hospital. They stopped at a local gas station and changed their clothes. Dean and Sam were wearing suits while she had traded jeans and a hoodie for a skirt and a blazer. Sam stops before they reach reception desk. "Dude, dude, I am not using this ID," he says.

"Why not," Dean amusedly asks.

"Because it says 'bikini inspector' on it."

Dean and Addison both laugh. "I doubt she'll look that close, Sam, and that's only if she asks," Addison tells him.

"It's all about confidence, Sam," Dean finishes and pushes him towards the desk.

Sam glares at them then turns to the receptionist. "Hi, I'm Dr. Jerry Kaplan, Center for Disease Control," he greets.

"Can I see some ID," the receptionist asks.

"Yeah, of course." He quickly flashes the ID at her. "Now, could you direct me to the pediatrics ward, please?"

"Okay." The receptionist leans forward and points. "Just go down that hall, then left, and up the stairs."

Sam walks over to them, an unamused look on his face. "See," Dean quietly says. "I told you it'd work."

"Follow me. It's upstairs."

They follow Sam through the hallways. Dean stops and looks inside one of the room. An woman was sitting in a wheelchair and when she looked at him, a chill went down his spine. He notices the inverted cross hanging on her wall. "Dean," Addison says, motioning down the hallway. He joins her and they catch up with Sam.

After they make their way to the pediatrics ward, they find a doctor standing outside a room. He appeared to be in his late thirties to early forties. He had dark brown hair and eyes and was overlooking a chart. "Doctor," Sam greets. "We're from the CDC."

The doctor closes the chart. "I'm Dr. Hydecker," he replies, shaking Sam's hand. "I'm glad you guys are here. I was just about to call the CDC myself. How'd you find out, anyway?"

"Oh, some GP, I forget his name, called Atlanta, and, uh, must have beat you to the punch," Dean explains.

"So, six cases so far, huh," Addison asks.

"Yeah, in five weeks," Dr. Hydecker replies. He motions through the window where a young boy was lying on a bed. "At first, we thought it was garden-variety bacterial pneumonia - not that newsworthy. But now..."

"What?"

"The kids aren't responding to antibiotics. Their white cell counts keep going up. Their immune systems just aren't doing their job. It's like their bodies are wearing out."

A nurse walks over to them. "Excuse me, Dr. Hydecker," the nurse says, handing him a chart.

"You ever see anything like this before," Sam asks.

"Never this severe," Dr. Hydecker replies.

"They way it spreads - that's a new one for me," the nurse comments.

"What do you mean," Addison asks, looking between them.

"It works its way through families, but only the children — one sibling after another."

"Do you mind if we interview a few of the kids," Dean asks.

"They're not conscious."

"None of them," Sam questions.

"No."

"Can we, uh - can we talk to the parents," Dean asks.

"If you think it'll help," Dr. Hydecker says, shrugging.

"Yeah. Who was your most recent admission?"

Dr. Hydecker hands the charts to the nurse and walks down a hallway. "That would be Mr. Tarnower's daughters. His oldest daughter got sick first." They stand outside a room while Dr. Hydecker goes inside. A obviously tired man walks out. "Mr. Tarnower, these folks are from the CDC."

Mr. Tarnower glances back into the room. Addison could see two young girls lying in the beds. "I should get back to my girls."

"We understand that and we really appreciate you talking to us. Now, which one is the oldest," Sam asks.

"Mary. She's thirteen."

"Okay. And she came down with it first, right? And then..."

"Bethany the next night."

"Within twenty-four hours," Addison asks.

"I guess." Mr. Tarnower sighs. "Look, I already went through all this with the doctor."

"All right, now, just a few more questions, if you don't mind," Dean reassures. "How do you think they caught pneumonia? Were they out in the cold, anything like that?"

"No, we think it was an open window."

"Both times?"

"The first time, I don't really remember. But the second time, for sure. I know I closed it before I put Bethany to bed."

"Did she open it," Addison asks.

"It's a second-story window with a ledge. No one else could have."

Sam nods. "Thank you, Mr. Tarnower, for your time." They walk back down the hallway they came. "You know, this might not be anything supernatural. It might just be pneumonia."

"Maybe," Dean thoughtfully replies. "Or maybe something opened that window. I don't know, man, look, Dad sent us down here for a reason. I think we might be barking up the right tree."

"Well, either way, it's probably gonna be a while before Mr. Tarnower goes home," Addison comments.

* * *

The bedroom was like any other normal little girl's bedroom. The walls were a light pink, as were the sheets. Stuffed animals were scattered around the room while a dollhouse was in the corner. Addison sighs and turns off her EMF meter. They had been searching the house for a while. "Please tell me one of you found something," she says.

"No, nothing," Dean replies.

"Yeah, me neither," Sam agrees. He walks past the window and stops. He looks back out the window. "Hey, got something." They walk over as Sam opens the window. "You were right. It's not pneumonia." There was a black handprint on the ledge. He touches the handprint. "It's rotted. What the hell leaves a handprint like that?"

Addison shrugs. Dean just stared at the handprint. "I know why Dad sent us here," he suddenly says. "He's faced this thing before. He wants us to finish the job."

* * *

"So, what the hell is a shtriga," Sam asks as they climb out of the Impala. They had stopped at a local motel. Dean had explained John's previous hunt to them after leaving the Tarnower's house, but Addison had a feeling that there was more to the story than he was telling. She also knew that if she pushed Dean for the truth, then he would pull away.

"It's kind of like a witch," Dean replies, walking around to the trunk. "I think. I don't know much about 'em."

"Well, I've never heard of it. And it's not in Dad's journal."

"Dad hunted one in Fort Douglas, Wisconsin about sixteen, seventeen years ago. You were there, you don't remember?" Sam shakes his head as they grab their bags out of the trunk. "Yeah, I guess he caught wind that the thing's in Fitchburg now and kicked us the coordinates."

"So, wait, this..."

"Shtriga."

"Right. You think it's the same one Dad hunted before?"

"Yeah, maybe."

"But if Dad went after it, why is it still breathing?"

"Cause it got away."

"Got away?"

"Yeah, Sammy, it happens."

"Not very often."

"Well, I don't know what to tell you I mean, maybe Dad didn't have his Wheaties that morning."

"What else do you remember?"

"Nothing, I was a kid, alright," Dean coldly says and walks into the motel's main office.

Addison slaps Sam's arm. "You know better." Sam stares at her, confused. She rolls her eyes. "You push, he pulls away. You have to let Dean tell you when he's ready. Now, give me a dollar." He sighs, but takes out his wallet anyway.

* * *

Sam frowns when he glances over at Addison's laptop and finds her playing solitaire. They were sitting next to each other on one of the beds. It was supposed to make research easier. Dean walks out of the bathroom, freshly showered. "Well, you were right," Sam begins. "It wasn't very easy to find, but you were right. A shtriga is a kind of witch. They're Albanian, but legends about 'em date back to ancient Rome. They feed off of spiritus vitae."

"Spiri-what," Dean replies, grabbing a clean pair of socks out of his duffle bag. He sits down at the small table.

"Vitae," Addison says, not looking up from her laptop. "It's Latin for 'breath of life.' Like your life force or essence. Ya know?"

"Didn't the doctor say the kids' bodies were wearing out?"

"It's a thought. You know, she takes your vitality, maybe your immunity goes to hell, pneumonia takes hold. Anyway, shtrigas can feed off anyone, but they prefer-" Sam explains.

"Children."

"Yeah. Probably because they have stronger life force. And get this — shtrigas are invulnerable to all weapons devised by God and man."

"No. That's not right. She's vulnerable when she feeds."

"What," Sam and Addison ask at the same time.

"If you catch her when she's eating, you can blast her with consecrated wrought irons, buckshots, or rounds, I think."

"How do you know that," Sam asks.

"Dad told me. I remember."

"Oh. So, uh, anything else Dad might have mentioned?"

"No. That's it." Dean looks up to find Sam staring at him. "What?"

"Nothing. Okay, so, assuming we can kill it when it eats, we still gotta find the thing first, which ain't gonna be a cakewalk. Shtrigas take on a human disguise when they're not hunting."

"Historically, something innocuous — it could be anything. But's usually a feeble old woman, which may be how the whole witches as old crones legend got started."

Addison smirks. She motions for Dean to come over to her. Sam leans over to find that she had opened a browser with a map. "Thanks to the power of Google Maps I was able to make a map of all of the victims' address. And look what is right smack in the center."

"The hospital."

"And you thought I just played games."

"When we were there, I saw a patient — an old woman," Dean tells them, walking over to the weapons bag.

"An old person, huh," Sam amusedly asks.

"Yeah."

"In the hospital? Whew. Better call the Coast Guard."

"Well, listen, smartass, she had an inverted cross hanging on her wall." The amused look quickly falls Sam's face. Addison smirks and pats the top of Sam's head, causing him to glare at her and Dean to laugh.

* * *

Addison glances at her watch to find that it's close to two a.m. as the three of them walk down the dark hospital hallway. Footsteps coming from people other then them echo. They quickly press themselves against a wall. "Good night, Dr. Hydecker," a nurse says.

"See you tomorrow, Betty," Dr. Hydecker replies.

"Try to get some sleep."

Addison rolls her eyes, wondering how long they would keep talking. Footsteps walks past their hiding spot. They step out and continue down the hallway. They stop in front of a closed door. She reaches inside her leather jacket to take out her gun as Dean does the same. Sam pushes open the door and they walk into the room. A old woman was sitting in a rocking chair with her back facing the door.

Sam, who had pulled out his gun, and Addison stay behind the woman while Dean walks around her. He starts to lean in when the woman suddenly sits up. "Who the hell are you," the woman demands. Dean backs up, bumping into a dresser. Addison quickly shoves her gun into her jacket. "Who's there? You trying to steal my stuff?! They're always stealing around here."

Sam flips a nearby switch causing the room to light up. "No, ma'am, we're maintenance. We're sorry, we thought you were sleeping."

"Oh, nonsense. I was sleeping with my peepers open! And fix that crucifix, would ya? I've asked four damn times already." Dean looks over his shoulder and fixes the cross. Addison shakes her head and walks out of the room.

* * *

"'I was sleeping with my peepers open,'" Sam mocks as they climb out of the Impala. They were back at the motel and it was early in the morning. Dean shoots Sam an annoyed look, causing the younger Winchester to laugh.

"I almost smoked that old gal, I swear. It's not funny," Dean counters.

"Dean, you should've seen your face.” Addison comments, grinning. Sam opens the door to their motel room. "You looked like you were about to piss yourself."

"Yeah, well, laugh it up, you two. We're back to square one." Dean spots the kid, Michael, he had met the night before sitting on a bench. "Hang on." Sam closes the door and they walks over to Michael. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"My brother's sick," Michael replies, wiping his face.

"The little guy?"

"Pneumonia," Michael tells them. Sam and Addison exchange a look. "He's in the hospital. It's my fault."

"Oh, come on. How?"

"I should've made sure the window was latched. He wouldn't have gotten pneumonia if the window was latched."

Dean sits down next to him. "Listen to me. I can promise you that this is not your fault, okay?"

"It's my job to look after him."

"Michael." They turn to see a woman walk out of the main office and over to a Jeep. Her arms were filled with blankets and a pillow. "I want you to turn on the 'No Vacancy' sign while I'm gone. I've got Denise covering room service, so don't bother with any of the rooms."

Michael walks over to his mother. "I'm going with you."

"Not now, Michael."

"But I gotta see Asher!"

"Hey, Michael," Dean says, getting his attention. "Hey, I know how you feel, okay? I'm a big brother too. But you gotta go easy on your mom right now, okay?"

The mother slams the back door shut, dropping her purse on the ground in the process. "Damnit!"

"I got it," Sam says, quickly kneeling down and picking up the purse. "Here."

"Thanks."

"Hey, listen, you're in no condition to drive," Dean says. "Why don't you let me give you a lift to the hospital, huh?"

"No, I couldn't possibly-"

"No, it's no trouble. I insist."

The woman reluctantly hands over the keys. "Thanks." She kisses Michael's forehead. "Be good."

She climbs into the passenger seat and Dean closes the door. He walks over to Addison and Sam. "We're gonna kill this thing," he coldly says. "I want it dead, you guys hear me."

Sam sighs. "We should get to the library." Addison nods and they walk over to where the Impala was parked.

* * *

Addison yawns as she looks through the collection of old articles. Amazingly, the local library had a great archive filled with newspaper clippings since the town paper had been founded. Her and Sam had been in the library the majority of the day while Dean remained at the hospital. She flips through another photo, then freezes. She looks at the other photo. "Holy shit," Addison mutters, standing up.

Grabbing the photo, Addison briskly walks to where Sam was going through a different stack of articles. He was on the phone. She slams the photo down on the stack of papers in front of him. "Whoa."

"Who are you talking to," Addison whispers.

"Dean. Hold on. I'm looking at a photograph right now of a bunch of doctors standing around a kid's bed. One of the doctors is Hydecker."

Addison grabs the phone out Sam's hand. "Dean, this photo was taken in 1893. Hydecker looks like he hasn't aged a day."

"You sure," Dean asks.

"Uh huh." Dean hangs up and Addison hands Sam his phone back. "Well, I say that we've finished researching, Sammy. Let's get something to eat on the way back."

* * *

"We should have thought of this before," Sam comments, sitting down across from Addison at the table. He hands her the bottle of ketchup. They had picked Dean up after leaving the library. "A doctor's a perfect disguise. You're trusted, you can control the whole thing."

"Huh," Dean replies, tossing the papers they had copied onto the counter separating the kitchenette and main part of the room. "That son of a bitch."

"I'm surprised that you didn't draw on him right there."

"Yeah, well, first of all, I'm not gonna open fire in a fucking pediatrics ward. Second, it wouldn't have done any good because the bastard's bulletproof unless he's chowing down on something. And third, I wasn't packing, which is probably a really good thing cause I probably would've just burned a clip in him off of principle alone."

"Getting wise in your old age, Dean."

"Damn right. So, now I know how we're gonna get it."

"What do you mean?"

"It works through siblings, right," Addison asks.

Dean nods. "Yeah. Well, last night..."

"It goes after Asher. Which means tonight that it'll more than likely go after Michael."

"Then we gotta get him outta here," Sam says.

"No. No, that'd blow the whole deal," Dean tells him.

"What?" Sam looks between his brother and Addison. "You guys wanna use the kid as bait? Are you guys nuts? No! Forget it, that's out of the question."

"Sam, its the only way. We know where it's gonna be ahead of time," Addison argues. "It's the only chance we have."

"Michael's a kid. And I'm not gonna dangle him in front of that thing like a worm on a hook."

"Dad did not send me here to walk away," Dean says.

"Send you here? He didn't send you here, he sent us here."

"This isn't about you, Sam!" Dean turns away from them. "All right, I'm the one that screwed up. It's my fault. There's no telling how many kids have gotten sick because of me."

"Dean, what are you talking about," Addison asks, standing up. Dean remains silent. "You've been keeping something from us the entire time we've been here. I've been trying not to push you about it, but seriously, you need to start talking."

"And since when does Dad bail on a hunt," Sam asks. "Since when does he let something get away?"

Dean sighs. He knew they were both right. "Fort Douglas, Wisconsin," he confesses. "It was the third night in this crap room and I was climbing the walls. I needed to get some air. There was an arcade across the street. After you fell asleep, Sam, I went over there. When I come back, the shtriga is over you and I go to get the shotgun, but Dad shows up. He shoots it, but it gets away. Dad just grabbed us and booked - dropped us off at Pastor Jim's about three hours away. By the time he got back to Fort Douglas, the shtriga disappeared. It was just gone. It never resurfaced until now. Dad never spoke about it again. I didn't ask. But he, uh, he looked at me different, you know - which was worse. Not that I blame him. He gave me an order and I didn't listen. I almost got you killed, Sam."

"You were just a kid," Sam reassures.

"Don't - don't. Dad knew this was unfinished business for me. And he sent me here to finish it."

"But using Michael? I don't know, Dean. I mean, how about one of us hides under the covers, you know, we'll be the bait?"

"No, that won't work. It's gotta get close enough to feed. It'll see us. Believe me, I don't like it. But it's gotta be the kid," Dean tells him, then walks into the bathroom.

Sam turns to Addison. “Ads—"

"Sam, the shtriga is gonna go after Michael either way. This way we can protect him and take care of it at the same time," Addison says. She wanted to go check on Dean, but knew that he needed time to himself. She sees Sam glance towards the bathroom. "He'll be fine, Sam. You know how Dean is with sharing his emotions."

Sam sighs. "Yeah, you're right."

Addison smirks. "I'm always right, Sam."

* * *

Michael stares at them. He clutched the phone in his hand. He didn't believe a thing that they had told him. And a small part of him was scared, but he wouldn't admit that to them. "You're crazy," he exclaims. "Just go away or I'm calling the cops."

"Hang on a second," Dean says, putting his hands up. "Just listen to me. You have to believe me, okay? This thing came through your window and it attacked your brother. Now, I've seen it. I know what it looks like. Cause it attacked my brother once too."

Michael stares at him, then slowly puts down the phone. "This thing — is it like — it has this long, black robe?"

"You saw it last night, didn't you?"

"I thought I was having a nightmare."

Dean sighs. "I'd give anything not to tell you this, but sometimes, nightmares are real."

"So, why are you telling me?"

"Because we need your help."

"My help?"

"We can kill it." Dean motions to where Sam and Addison were standing behind him. "Me and them, it's what we do. But we can't do it without you."

Michael shakes his head. "What? No!"

"Michael, listen to me. This thing hurt Asher and it's gonna keep hurting kids unless we stop it. You understand me?" Michael stares at him. Dean sighs and they walk out of the office. "Well, that went crappy," Dean says, after they enter the motel room. "Now what?"

"What'd you expect," Sam asks. "You can't ask an adult to do something like that, much less a kid."

Dean nods in agreement. "That just means we have to use Addison as bait."

"Wait, what," Addison asks, looking between the two of them. "You can't be serious."

Neither get a chance to respond as someone knocks on the door. Dean walks over and opens it. Michael was standing there. "If you kill it, will Asher get better," he asks.

Dean glances at them. "Honestly, we don't know," he answers.

"You said you're a big brother?"

"Yeah."

"You'd take care of your little brother? You'd do anything for him?"

"Yeah, I would."

"Me too. I'll help."

* * *

A light shuffling and Dean's greeted to the soft snoring coming from Addison. She had fallen asleep while they were waiting for the shtriga to show up. He and Sam had set up a camera inside of Michael's room and were watching the feed on Sam's laptop. Michael was under the covers, pretending to be asleep. "What time is it," Dean quietly asks.

"Three," Sam softly answers after looking at his watch. "You sure these iron rounds are gonna work?"

"Consecrated iron rounds. And, yeah, it's what Dad used last time."

A silence settles over them. "Hey, Dean, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Well, you know, I've really given you a lot of crap for always following Dad's orders."

"Oh, God, kill me now," Dean murmurs. He notices a shadow on the screen. "Wait, look." They watch as the shtriga unlocks the window and climbs into the bedroom. Dean nudges Addison and she wakes with a start. He motions to the screen before she can say something.

Each of them grab their guns as the shtriga stands by Michael's bed. "Now," Addison yawns.

"Not yet." The shtriga walks over to Michael and bends down over him. They run burst into the bedroom. "Hey!" The shtriga stands up. "Michael, down!" Michael quickly rolls off and crawls under his bed. The three of them shoot the shtriga. It falls to the ground. "Mike, you all right?"

"Yeah," Michael timidly answers.

"Sit tight." The three of them walk over to the shtriga. Numerous bullet holes were in the robe. They lower their guns. The shtriga shoots up and tosses Dean across the room. Addison's thrown into the dresser. The shtriga shoves Sam back onto the bed, then climbs on top of him. Sam reaches for his gun as the shtriga grabs his chin and forces his mouth open.

Dean sits up. A small, bright light starts to come out of Sam's mouth. "Hey," Dean shouts and the shtriga looks up at him. He fires at the center of it's head. The shtriga falls back onto the ground. "You okay, little brother?" Sam gives him a thumbs up sign as Dean walks over to the body on the ground. Sam sits up, panting. Dean fires into the body and it disappears, leaving just a pile of robes on the ground. "It's okay, Michael, you can come on out."

Michael crawls out from under his bed. He gives them a thankful smile, which is returned. A groan comes from behind them and they turn to see Addison lying on the ground. "I hate this job," she moans.

* * *

Addison smiles as she listens to Michael's mom say that all the kids in the hospital were going to be okay. She was stretched out in the backseat of the Impala as she still felt some pain from her back. "It's too bad," Sam comments, leaning against the Impala.

"Oh, they'll be fine," Dean replies, slamming the trunk shut.

"No, that's not what I mean. I meant Michael. He will always know there are things out there in the dark. He'll never be the same, you know. Sometimes I wish that..."

"What?"

"I wish I could have that kind of innocence."

Dean silently watches as Michael and his mom drive way. He turns to Sam. "If it means anything, sometimes I wish you could too."


	19. Provenance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, but I own the original characters.

Addison reluctantly walks away from the bar and over to where Sam was sitting alone at a table. Dean had found a local bar and decided to check it out. Addison didn’t feel like sitting in the motel room and had dragged Sam with her. “Sam, this better be good, because that guy over there is a very nice, successful, investment banker.” she hisses. Addison smiles at the man sitting at the bar.

“All right.” Sam says, after Dean joins them. “So, I think I got something.”

“Oh yeah. Me too,” Dean replies. “I think we need to take a little shore leave for just a little bit. What do you think, huh? I’m so in the door with this one.”

“I agree,” Addison comments, taking a sip of her appletini. “It’s not everyday I met a nice guy in a bar.”

“So, what are you guys today,” Sam amusedly asks. “Rock star and his manager? Army rangers?”

“Reality TV scout looking for people with special skills,” Dean answers.

“Third year law student who’s home visiting family,” Addison supplies.

“I mean, hey, it’s not that far off, right? By the way, she’s got a friend over there. I could probably hook you up, what do you think?”

“Dean, no thanks, I can get my own dates,” Sam tells them.

“Yeah, you can, but you don’t.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Addison says, shooting a glare at Dean. “So, what’d you find?”

“Mark and Anne Telesca of New Paltz, New York. They were both found dead in their home just a few days ago."

“And...”

“Throats were slit, there were no prints, no murder weapons — Dean.” Dean pulls his gaze from where the woman and her friend were standing by the bar. “No prints, no murder weapons, all doors and windows were locked from the inside.”

“Could just be a garden variety murder, you know, not our department,” Dean says.

“No, Dad says different.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look.” Sam turns the journal around to face them. “Dad noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York. First one, right here, 1912, the second one in 1945, and the third in 1970. The same M.O. as the Telescas — their throats were slit, the house were locked from the inside. Now, so much time passed between the murders that nobody checked the pattern, except for Dad. He always kept his eyes peeled for another one.”

“And now another has happened,” Addison reasons, smiling at the man sitting by the bar.

“Exactly.”

“All right, I’m with ya. It’s worth checking out,” Dean says. “We can pick this up first thing, though, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Great,” Addison says, standing up. She walks back over to the bar. Dean stands up, pats Sam on the shoulder, and goes to the opposite side of the bar. Sam smiles as his brother and best friend go back to their respective dates for the night.

* * *

Addison yawns as she and Sam walk out of the Telesca home. It was early in the morning. They had left Dean asleep in the backseat of the Impala as they checked out the house. She starts to climb into the passenger seat, when Sam shakes his head. Addison watches as he leans in the opened window and presses the horn on steering wheel. They laugh as Dean jumps up and looks around. “Man, that is so not cool,” he says, laying back down.

“We just swept the Telesca house with the EMF. It’s clean. And last night, while you two were out...”

“Good times.”

“I agree with that,” Addison comments.

“I took the history of the house,” Sam continues. “No hauntings, no violent crimes, nothing strange about the Telescas themselves either.”

“All right, so if it’s not the people and it’s not the house, then, uh...maybe it’s the contents — a cursed object or something,” Dean says.

“The house is clean.”

“Yeah, I know. You said that.”

“Dean, that house is empty. None of their stuff is there,” Addison explains.

Dean pushes up his sunglasses and looks between them. “Where’s all their stuff?”

* * *

After spending some time on the internet, Sam was able to find that all of the Telescas’ stuff was at a local auction house. Expensive sports cars were parked outside while everyone inside was dressed up. Addison timidly smiles at some of the people who stare at them. “Silent auctions, estate sales — it’s like a garage sale for WASPS, if you ask me,” Dean mutters. He grabs a handful of food off a tray as a waiter passes them.

“Can I help you?"

They turn around to find a man in his fifties standing behind them. He wore an expensive suit. “I’d like some champagne, please.”

An offended look crosses the man’s ace. “He’s not a waiter,” Sam tells them. “I’m Sam Connors.” He holds out his hand, but man stares at him. “This is my brother, Dean, and our associate, Addison Williams. We are art dealers with Connors Limited.”

“You’re art dealers,” the man disbelievingly asks.

“That’s right.”

“I’m Daniel Blake. This is my auction house. Now, this is a private showing and I don’t remember seeing you on the guest list.”

“We’re there, Chuckles,” Dean tells him. Addison keeps a smile on her face, even through she wanted to hit him. “You just need to take another look.” A waiter carrying a tray of champagne glasses passes them. “Oh, finally.” Dean grabs two glasses and hands one to Addison, who reluctantly takes it. He sniffs it and walks away.

Addison quickly follows him, leaving Sam to bring up the rear. “Why’d you give me a glass of champagne,” she hisses.

“Because you can’t bitch at me if you’re wasted,” Dean counters, smirking at her.

Addison stares at him, then shrugs. “Fine. You got me there.”

“You’re both unbelievable,” Sam comments. “Let’s find the Telescas' stuff, scan it, and get out of here before you draw anymore attention to us.”

Sam walks ahead of them. Addison turns to Dean. She loops her arm through his. “Sam needs to get laid,” she says.

“Yes, he does,” Dean replies, clinking his glass against hers. “Now, let’s look at some over priced used crap, Miss Sloan.” Addison laughs and they catch up with Sam, who was examining a creepy painting of a family.

“A fine example of American primitive, wouldn’t you say?” They turn to see a pretty, dark haired woman walk down the stairs. Dean elbows Sam and grins at him.

“Well, I’d say it’s more grand wood than grandma moses,” Sam corrects. A light blush covers the woman’s face. “But you knew that. You just wanted to see if I did.” A waiter passes them and Dean grabs another handful of food, while Addison takes just one piece.

“Guilty. And clumsy, I apologize. I’m Sarah Blake.”

She holds out her hand and Sam shakes it. “I’m Sam. This is my...” He frowns seeing that Dean’s mouth was full of food. “Brother, Dean. And his enabler, Addison.”

“Dean and Addison?” Addison smiles at Sarah as Dean continues eating. “Can we get you some more mini-quiche?”

“Mmmm, I’m good, thanks,” Dean answers.

Sarah turns back to Sam. “So, I can I help you with something?”

“Yeah, actually,” Sam starts. “What can you tell us about the Telesca estate?”

“The whole thing’s pretty grisly, if you ask me, selling their things this soon. But Dad’s right about one thing. Sensationalism brings out the crowds — even the rich ones.”

“Is it possible to see the provenances?”

“I’m afraid there isn’t any chance of that,” Daniel says, walking up behind Sarah.

“Why not?”

“You’re not on the guest list. And I think it’s time for you leave.”

“Well, we don’t have to be told twice,” Dean says.

“Apparently, you do.”

“Okay, it’s all right. We don’t want any trouble. We’ll go,” Sam says. Dean shrugs and walks away, pulling Addison along with him. Sam shoots Sarah an apologetic look and follows them.

* * *

“Grant wood? Grandma moses,” Dean asks, pulling his and Addison’s bags out of the trunk. She had dealt with getting the motel room and called to tell them which one it was. “Dude.”

“Art history course,” Sam explains. “It’s good for meeting girls.”

“It’s like I don’t even know you.”

“I never took art history,” Addison comments, walking over to them. “But then again the majority of my dates in college always involved a bar and some kind of sporting event.” She shrugs and opens the door. The three of them walk in.

The room was decorated in a seventies theme, with everything silver or black. A lot of the furniture was chrome. And on the room divider was a man dancing. “Huh,” the three of them comment at once.

Dean tosses his and Addison’s bag on one of the beds. “What was it, the providence?”

“Provenance,” Sam corrects. Addison snorts watching Dean trying to pronounce it. “It’s a certificate of origin, like a biography, you know? We can use ‘em to check the history of the pieces, see if anything’s got a freak past.”

“Huh. Well, we’re not getting anything out of Chuckles, but, uh, Sarah?”

“Yeah. Maybe you can get her to write it all down on a cocktail napkin.”

“Wrong tree,” Addison says.

“Oh, no, no, no, no. That’s what the two of you do,” Sam counters.

“It wasn’t our asses she was checking out,” Dean tells him.

“In other words, you want me to use her to get information.”

Dean pulls his phone out of his pocket and holds it out to Sam. “Sometimes, you gotta take one for the team. Call her.” Sam looks at Addison, but she just smiles at him. He reluctantly takes the phone from Dean.

* * *

Addison flops down on the bed, remote in hand. To her, putting the TV on the bedroom side of the divider was a smart thing to do. Dean sits down on the edge of the bed by her feet, with a knife and a sharpening stone. “So, you’ll hook up with some random dude in a suit at a bar, but not with me,” he says.

“You know where I stand,” Addison replies, flipping through the channels. “Besides, actions speak louder than words.” Dean pauses. There were two things that he could do and well, Dean Winchester always went with the option that was more fun. He sets down the sharping stone and knife on the nightstand. She stares when he moves in front of the TV. Her gaze widens when he crawls over her.  “What are you doing?”

“Actions,” Dean mutters, then presses his lips against hers. Her arm snakes around his neck. He presses a knee between her legs and grins when she lets out a moan.  His fingers make quick work of her shirt. His lips trail across her breasts before moving south. He starts to unbutton her jeans. 

“Sam!”

Dean tenses. He wasn’t expecting that. Addison shoves him away and quickly fixes her shirt. He glances behind him and finds his younger brother awkwardly standing in the doorway. “If you guys want, I can come back later,” Sam says.

“Yeah, tomorrow morning would be good,” Dean tells him.

Addison slaps the back of his head. “Everything’s fine, Sam,” she says, sitting at the table. “Did you have fun on your date?”

Sam holds up a file instead of answering her. “I got the provenances,” he says. He takes off his jacket and hangs it on the back of the chair before sitting down.

“So, she just handed the providences over to you,” Dean asks, shifting on the bed.

“Provenances.”

“Pro — provenances?”

“Yes. I went back to her place, I got a copy of the papers.”

“And?”

“And nothing, that’s it. I left.”

“You didn’t have to con her or do any special favors or anything?”

“Dean, this isn’t a porno,” Addison tells him.

“You know, when this whole thing is done, we could stick around for a little bit.”

“Why,” Sam asks.

“So you can take her out again. It’s obvious you’re into her, even I can see that.”

Sam shakes his head in amusement. “Hey, all right, I think I got something here.”

Addison takes the paper out of his hand. “Portrait of Isaiah Merchant’s family painted in 1910,” she reads. “That’s that creepy painting, right?”

“Yeah.” Sam flips through John’s journal as Dean moves to stand behind Addison. Sam turns the journal to face them. “Now, compare the names of the owners with Dad’s journal.”

“First purchased in 1912 to Peter Simms,” Dean states. He looks at the line that Sam was pointing to. “Peter Simms murdered in 1912. Same thing in 1945. Huh. Same thing in 1970.”

“Then stored until it was donated to a charity auction last month, where the Telescas bought it. So, what do you think, it’s haunted or cursed.”

“I think the question is why would anybody buy that creepy ass painting,” Addison replies.

“Either way, it’s toast,” Dean tells them, then disappears into the bathroom. Addison smiles at Sam, pretending that there wasn’t an awkwardness there.

* * *

Breaking into the auction house consisted of climbing over the large gate and Sam disabling the alarm system. Addison and Dean go in one direction while Sam goes in another. The light in the building came from their flashlights or from the moon. Her flashlight shines over a bust of Shakespeare. Dean’s flashes his light to the upper part of the auction house and spots the painting. He motions to Sam and the three of them make their way upstairs.

He cuts the painting out of the frame and they quickly leave the auction house. They find an abandoned field. Sam drops the painting on the ground and Addison pours lighter fluid on it. Dean lights some matches and drops it on the painting. “Ugly ass thing,” he comments as they watch it go up in flames. “If you ask me, we’re doing the art world a favor.”

* * *

Dean walks into the bathroom to find Addison brushing her teeth. Her makeup bag was sitting on the counter. She stares at him in the mirror as he presses against her back. “Have you seen my wallet,” Dean asks. She shakes her head. He walks out of the bathroom, patting himself down in the process. “We’ve got a problem. I can’t find my wallet.”

Sam looks up from where he was packing his duffel bag. “How is that my problem?” 

“Cause I think I dropped it in the warehouse last night.”

Addison walks out of the bathroom. “You’re kidding, right?” He shrugs in response. “Damnit, Dean!”

“Yeah, well, it’s got my prints, my ID -- well, my fake ID, anyway. We’ve gotta get it before somebody else finds it, come on.” Addison shoots him an annoyed look and grabs her jacket off the bed before walking out of the motel room.

The auction house is empty when they arrive. They search around antique furniture. “How do you lose your wallet, Dean,” Sam quietly asks. Dean shrugs for a second time that day.

“Hey, guys.”

They turn to see Sarah walking towards them. Sam quickly puts down the painting he was holding. “Sarah! Hey.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Uh, we — we’re leaving town, and you know, we came to say goodbye."

“Oh, what are you talking about, Sam,” Dean asks, clapping his shoulder. “We’re sticking around for at least another day or two. Oh, Sam, by the way, I wanted to give that twenty bucks I owe you. I’m always forgetting.” He pulls out his wallet and takes out a twenty dollar bill. “There ya go.” Sam takes it, while shooting him annoyed look. “Well, we’ll leave you two crazy kids alone. We gotta go do something...somewhere.”

Dean wraps his arm around Addison’s shoulders as they walk out of the auction house. “You could’ve just told me,” she says.

“Where’s the fun in that, Ads,” Dean counters, moving to stand in front of her.

He captures her lips in a lust filled kiss. Addison pulls back and stares at him. “What was that for?”

Dean doesn’t get a chance to reply. “Hey!” They turn to see Sam walking over to them. “We got a problem,” he says.

“What kind of problem,” Dean asks.

“The painting is back.”

“What,” Addison asks. “What do you mean?”

“I mean it’s back in the frame. I saw it. I don’t understand, we burned the damn thing.”

“Yeah, thank you, Captain Obvious,” Dean replies. This was the opposite of how he pictured the rest of the day going. “All right, we just need to figure out another way to get rid of it. Any ideas?”

“Okay, all right, well, um, in almost all the lore about haunted paintings, it’s always the painting’s subject that haunts them.”

“Which means we need to learn everything there is to know about Isaiah Merchant and his family,” Addison finishes. “We need to find the nearest archives.”

* * *

It didn’t take them long to find the nearest library with an archive of the city. Addison smiles at the local historian. He was a slightly overweight man who also wore glasses, but he was friendly and eager to help. “You said the Isaiah Merchant family, right,” the man asks, setting a heavy book down on the table where she sat with Sam and Dean. 

“Yeah,” Addison replies. She could see a folder shoved inside the book.

“I dug up every scrap of local history I could find. So, uh, are you a crime buff?”

“A little. Why do you ask?” The man smiles and pulls the folder out of the book. He opens it to show them a yellowed newspaper.

The headline of the paper immediately catches her attention. “Yeah, that sounds about right,” Dean mutters.

“Everyone in the family died,” Addison asks.

“It seems this Isaiah — he slits his kids’ throats, then his wife, then himself. Now, he was a barber by trade -- used a straight razor,” the man explains.

“Why’d he do it,” Sam asks.

“Well, let’s look. Uh, ‘people who knew him described Isaiah as having a stern and harsh temperament and controlled his family with an iron fist.’ Wife, two sons, adopted daughter — yeah, yeah — there were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave, which of course, you know, in that day and age, so, instead, Old Man Isaiah — well, he gave them all a shave.”

Dean chuckles as the man runs a finger across his throat. “Does it say what happened to the bodies,” he asks.

“It just says they were all cremated.”

“Anything else?” Sam asks.

“Yeah. Actually, I found a picture of the family. It’s right here somewhere."

The man opens the book and flips through a couple of pages before finding it. Addison tenses when she notices that the painting in the book was different than the one they had seen. “Can I get a copy of this,” she asks, smiling at the man.

“Sure.”

* * *

“I’m telling you, man, I’m sure of it,” Sam says, sitting down at the table in the motel room with Addison and Dean. He puts copy on the table, turning it to face Dean. “Painting at the auction house,  Dad is looking down. Painting here, Dad’s looking out. The painting has changed, Dean.”

“All right, so, you think Daddy Dearest is trapped in the painting?” Dean asks. “He’s handing out Columbian neckties like did with his family?”

“Yeah, it seems like it. But if his bones are already dusted, then how are we gonna stop him?”’

“If Isaiah changed his position in the painting, then maybe other things did too,” Addison comments. “It could give us some clues.”

“What, like a _Da Vinci Code_ deal?”

“Um, maybe.”

“Anyway, we gotta get back in and see that painting,” Dean says, standing up and walking over to his bed. “Which is a good thing because you can get some more time to crush on your girlfriend."

Sam shoots his older brother an annoyed look. “Dude, enough already.”

“What?”

“‘What?’ Ever since we got here, you’ve been trying to pimp me out to Sarah. Just back off, alright?”

“Well, you like her, don’t you,” Dean counters. Sam remains quiet. “Alright, you like her, she likes you, you’re both consenting adults...”

Sam sighs. “What’s the point, Dean? We’ll just leave. We always leave.”

“Well, I’m not talking about marriage, Sam.”

“You know what, I don’t get it. What do you care if I hook up?”

“Because then maybe you wouldn’t be so cranky all the time.”

Addison shoots Dean a glare. “Sam, this isn’t about you hooking up,” she says, placing a comforting hand on Sam’s arm. “This has to do with Jessica, right?” A sad look appears on Sam’s face. “I think she would want you to be happy, Sam. She would want you to have fun, right?”

“Yeah, I know she would,” Sam softly replies. “Yeah, you’re right. Part of this is about Jessica. But not the main part.”

“What’s it about,” Dean asks, clearly interested. He shakes his head when Sam doesn’t say anything. “Yeah, alright. Well, we still gotta see that painting, which means you still gotta call Sarah, so...”

Sam nods and grabs his cell phone off the table. He dial’s Sarah’s number, unaware of the unhappy look that Addison sends Dean. “Sarah, hey. It’s Sam. Hey, hi. Good, good, yeah, um, what you...yeah, good, good, really good.”

“Smooth,” Dean comments.

“So, listen, me, my brother, and our associate were thinking that maybe we’d like to come back in and look at the painting again. I think maybe we are interested in buying it...What? Who’d you sell it to? Sarah, I need an address right now.”

* * *

The house they pull up to immediately reminds Addison of many of the older houses on the East coast. The outside consisted of dark brick and a porch with furniture, which was probably hardly used. As they climb out of the Impala, they notice Sarah standing next to her car. “Sam, what’s happening,” Sarah demands, walking over to them.

“I told you, you shouldn’t have come,” Sam replies as they all walk up the steps to the front door.

Addison knocks on the door. “Hello,” she shouts. “Is anybody home?”

“You said Evelyn might be in danger,” Sarah says. “What kind of danger?”

Dean examines the door. It was thicker than any normal door they encountered. “I can’t knock this sucker down. I gotta pick it.” Addison moves out of the way. She notices Sam trying to open one of the windows.

Sarah stares in disbelief. “What are you guys, burglars?”

“I wish it was that simple,” Sam answers as Dean gets the door open. “Look, you really should wait in the car, it’s for your own good.”

The three of them enter the dark house. “The hell I will,” Sarah replies, following them. “Evelyn’s a friend.”

Addison winces as she bumps into a table with a expensive glass vase on it. She grabs the vase before it can fall off. Dean smirks at her. She rolls her eyes and notices the painting hanging above the fireplace. A wingback chair was facing the fireplace. She motions over to it and he notices someone sitting in the chair. Dean looks over at Sam and sees that he noticed too. “Evelyn,” Dean asks, walking over to the chair.

“Evelyn,” Sarah asks, walking over. “Evelyn? It’s Sarah Blake. Are you all right?” She puts a hand on Evelyn’s shoulder.

“Sarah, don’t! Sarah,” Sam shouts, rushing over to her. Evelyn’s head leans back. Her throat was slashed. Sarah screams as Sam leads her out of the room. Addison searches her pockets for something to wipe off her prints. Dean hands her a cloth and she quickly wipes her prints off the vase before they walk out of the house.

* * *

Addison frowns as she closes out of another browser on her laptop. They were back at the motel, doing more research. Dean was sitting next to her at the table, while Sam paced. He had explained to them about him seeing the figure of Isaiah Merchant moving in the painting. Someone knocks on the door and Sam opens it, letting out a relived sigh as Sarah enters the room. “Hey. You all right?”

“No, actually,” Sarah answers. “I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn’s alone and found her like that."

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. I’m about to call ‘em right back if you don’t tell me what the hell is going on. Who’s killing these people?”

Sam glances at Dean and Addison before turning back to Sarah. “What.”

“What?”

“It’s not who, it’s what is killing these people.” Sarah shakes her head in confusion. “Sarah, you saw that painting move.”

“No. No. I was seeing things. It’s impossible.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to our world,” Dean comments.

“Sarah, I know this sounds crazy, but we think that that painting is haunted,” Sam explains.

“You’re joking,” Sarah disbelievingly asks. Sam doesn’t say anything. She blinks back tears. “You’re not joking. God, the guys I go out with.”

“Sarah, think about it — Evelyn, the Telescas. They both had the painting and there have been others before that. Wherever this thing goes, people die, and we’re just trying to stop it. And that’s the truth.”

Sarah sighs. She didn’t want to believe him. There was no way she could believe him. But she wanted to know the truth. “Well, then, I guess you better show me. I’m coming with you.”

“What? No. Sarah, no, you should just go home. This stuff can get dangerous and — and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Look, you guys are probably crazy, but if you’re right about this — well, me and my dad sold that painting, we might have gotten these people killed. I’m not saying I’m not scared, cause I am scared as hell, but I'm not gonna run and hide, either.” Sarah walks over to the door and looks back at them. “So, are we going or what?”

Sarah walks out of the motel room. “Sam,” Dean says, causing his younger brother to turn to him. “Marry that girl.”

* * *

Addison awkwardly smiles at Sarah. She had no problems with Sarah, she even liked that Sarah made Sam happy. But she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t awkward working with someone that she barely knew. “Uh, isn’t this a crime scene,” Sarah asks, watching Sam and Dean work to open the door to Evelyn’s house.

“You’ve already lied to the police once,” Addison replies. “What’s another infraction?”

Dean breaks the police seal and opens the door. The four of them enter the house. Even in the morning, the house was still dark. “Aren’t you worried that it’s gonna, you know, kill us?”

“No, it seems to do its thing at night,” Sam answers as they enter the living room. The painting was still hanging on the wall above the fireplace. “I think we’re all right in daylight.” He grabs the painting off the wall and leans it against a chair marked in white table.

Addison takes out a piece of paper with a copy of the painting on it. Dean glances over her shoulder and at the painting. “Check it out,” he says, taking the paper out of Addison’s hands and handing it to Sam. “The razor — it’s closed in this one, but it’s open in that one.”

“What are you guys looking for,” Sarah asks.

“Since it seems like the spirit is changing things in the painting, then it probably has a reason for doing so,” Addison replies.

“Hey, look at this,” Sam says. He points to a corner on the paper. “The painting in the painting.”

He hands Dean the paper back. Addison looks and sees a smaller painting behind Isaiah, one that was more scenic. Dean leans in to examine the painting. “Looks like a crypt or a mausoleum or something.” He grabs a nearby ashtray and holds it up to the painting. A name becomes clear. “Merchant.”

* * *

“That’s the third bone yard we’ve checked,” Dean complains as they walk through another cemetery. It was late in the afternoon. Addison shakes her head amusement. “I think this ghost is jerking us around.” He notices the amused look on her face. “Don’t—”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything, Dean,” Addison replies, smiling at him.

“So, this is what you guys do for a living,” Sarah asks.

“Not exactly. We don’t get paid,” Sam answers.

“Well, Mazel Tov.”

Dean spots the mausoleum. “Over there.”

They enter the mausoleum. Addison brushes her hair, checking to see if there any cobwebs. The mausoleum was small. The wall to the right of the door had glass cases with urns sitting in front of each case. Sarah wipes dust off one of the cases and notices a doll inside. “Okay, that right there is the creepiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“It was sort of a tradition at the time. Whenever a child died, sometimes they’d preserve the kid’s favorite toy in a glass case right next to the headstone in a crypt,” Sam explains.

“You notice anything strange here,” Dean asks.

“Uh, where do I start,” Sarah retorts.

“There’s only four urns,” Addison answers.

“Yeah, Mom and the three kids. Daddy dearest isn’t here,” Dean states.

“So, where is he?”

* * *

Dean walks up behind Addison. She was standing at a copy machine, watching it print out copies of the file they had found. He places his arms on either side of her and presses his chest against her back. “What are you doing,” Addison asks.

“I’m just standing here,” Dean replies, smirking. He leans in close. His lips brush her ear. “Did you have something else in mind, Addison?”

“You could say that.”

His moves his hand from the copy machine to under her tank top. Her skin was smooth. It was always smooth and soft. His fingers slip into her jeans. He can feel the lace from her panties. “What’d you have in mind?”

“Well, you’ll be sweaty...” Dean closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He needed to control himself, otherwise they’d end up in a cell for public indecency. “With Sam.” Dean opens his eyes and takes a step back from Addison. She smirks at him. “And I’ll be watching the two of you dig up Mr. Isaiah Merchant’s grave.”

She pats his arm, then walks out of the copy room. Addison puts the original file on the counter and together, they walk out of the country archives. “I hate you.”

“And yet you keep trying to get into my pants,” Addison smoothly counters.

They find Sam and Sarah sitting on a bench under a tree. They appeared to be sharing an intimate moment. “We’re not interrupting something,” Dean asks.

“No,” Sam answers.

“Not at all,” Sarah answers at the same time.

“Apparently,” Dean replies.

“So, what’d you get,” Sam asks.

“Well, apparently, killing you’re entire family and committing suicide makes surviving relatives ashamed,” Addison explains. “The rest of the Merchant family turned him over to the county, who gave him an economy style funeral. The county buried him in a pine box.”

“So, there are bones to burn?”

“There are bones to burn.”

“Tell me you know where.”

Addison rolls her eyes. “No, Sam, I just forgot to look up that part.”

* * *

Addison watches in amusement as Dean and Sam dig up the grave. Dean kept glaring at her, which only caused her to smile in response. Sarah stood next to her, holding the flashlight. “You guys seem to be uncomfortably comfortable with this,” Sarah comments.

“Yeah, well, this isn’t exactly the first grave we’ve dug up,” Sam explains. He smiles at Sarah. “Still think I’m a catch?”

Dean’s shovel hits something hard. “I think I got something.” Sarah shines the flashlight in his direction. He uses the shovel to break open the coffin to reveal bones. Sam climbs out of the grave as Dean continues to break open the coffin.

Addison kneels down and searches through a small bag as Dean climbs out of the grave. She pours salt and gasoline over the bones. She starts to light a match, but he grabs it out of her hand. “Hey!"

Dean shrugs and lights the matches. “You’ve been a real pain in the ass, Isaiah. Good riddance.” He throws the matches into the grave and they watch as it goes up in flames.

After the flames go down and they rebury the grave, they start pack to where the Impala was parked. “You’re an ass,” Addison hisses.

“And you’re a tease.”

* * *

The drive back to Evelyn’s house was tense. At least for Dean and Addison it was. Sam and Sarah didn’t seem to notice anything different was going on. Dean stops in front of the house. “Keep the motor running,” Sam tells him.

“I thought the painting was harmless now,” Sarah says.

“Better safe than sorry. We’re gonna burn the sucker.”

“I wanna come with you.”

“You sure?"

“Yeah.”

Sam and Sarah climb out of the Impala. “Hey, hey, hey,” Dean says motion for Sam to come back over. “We’ll stay here, you go make your move.” Sam shakes his head in disbelief. “Sam, I’m serious.” Sam ignores him and walks up to the house with Sarah. Addison climbs over the seat as Dean turns the radio up. Sam turns and glares at him.

Addison rolls her eyes and turns off the radio. She sighs. “I’m sorry. Okay. I should’ve stopped you before things went to far.”

Dean shakes his head. “You know, we spend ha—” A door slamming interrupts him. They both look out the window to find the front door closes. They climb out of the Impala and run up to the door. Dean kicks the door, but it doesn’t move.

“Dean,” Sam shouts from the other side. “Hey! Is that you!”

“Yeah, you all right?” Suddenly, music starts playing and he takes out his phone. Dean shoves the phone at Addison, who puts it on speaker. He takes out his lock pick kit and kneels down. “Tell me you slammed the front door.”

“No, it wasn’t me. I think it was the little girl.”

Dean shoots Addison a confused look and she shrugs. “The girl? What girl?”

“Yeah, she’s out of the painting. I think it might have been her all along.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Addison says. “Wasn’t Isaiah looking at her? Maybe he was trying to warn people.”

“Hey, hey, hey, let’s recap later, all right,” Sam says. “Just get us out of here.”

“Well, I’m trying to pick the lock, but the door won’t budge,” Dean tells them.

“Well, then, break it down."

“Okay, genius, let me grab my battering ram.”

“Dean, the damn thing is coming!”

“Sam, you gotta hold it off until we figure something out,” Addison says. “Find some salt or iron.” Dean steps back from the door. She looks between him and the door, then steps back. “Be careful.” Addison winces as Dean slams his shoulder into the door.

Dean, rubbing his shoulder, walks over to her. “Sammy, you okay,” he asks.

“Yeah, for now,” Sam replies.

“How we gonna waste her?”

“I don’t know. She was already cremated. There’s nothing left to burn.”

“Then how is she still around,” Addison asks.

“There must be something else.”

“You got any ideas,” Dean asks her. Addison shakes her head.

“Dean, Ads? Sarah says the doll might have the girl’s hair. Human remains -- same as bones."

“The mausoleum,” Dean, Sam, and Addison say at once. Addison hangs up and she and Dean run back over to the Impala.

Addison’s knuckles are white by the time Dean plows through the gates at the cemetery. She normally had no problem with Dean’s driving, but since he had speed all the back, she had clutched the seat all the way. He stops the Impala in front of the mausoleum and they quickly climb out. The case with doll was the closest one by the door and easy to spot. Dean pulls out his gun and bangs the butt against the glass. “Dean!” Addison shouts.

Dean looks at her, then realization hits him. He aims the gun at the case and turns as he shoots it. He grabs the doll and takes out his lighter. “Come on, come on!” The lighter finally lights and he drops the doll after the hair gets on fire.

Addison steps out of the mausoleum and takes out her phone, before speed dialing Sam. “Sam, you guys all right,” she asks.

“Yeah,” Sam answers. Addison hangs up and smiles at Dean as he walks out of the mausoleum.

* * *

Dean walks over to where Addison, Sam, and Sarah were standing, watching a couple of the auction house employees box up the Merchant painting. He holds up a piece of paper. “This was archived in the county records,” he begins. “The Merchants adopted daughter, Melanie. Know why she was up for adoption? Cause her real family was murdered in their beds.”

“She killed them,” Sarah asks.

“Yeah, who’d suspect her, a sweet little girl? So, then she kills Isaiah and his family, the old man takes the blame — spirit’s been trying to warn people ever since.”

“Where does this one go,” one of the workers asks.

“Take it out back and burn it.” The workers stare at Sarah. “I’m serious, guys. Thanks.” Sarah turns her attention back to Dean as the workers carry the box out. “So, why’d the girl do it?”

“Killing others, killing herself — some people are just born tortured. So, when they die, their spirits are just as dark,” Sam explains.

“Maybe. I don’t really care. It’s over, we move on,” Dean states.

“I guess this means you’re leaving,” Sarah says.

“We’ll go wait in the car,” Addison says, grabbing Dean’s arm. She smiles at them and they walk out of the auction house.

“I’m the one who burned the doll, destroyed the spirit, but don’t thank me or anything,” Dean mutters.

“Thank you for burning the doll and destroying the evil spirit, Dean.”

Dean wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her close. “You know how you can thank me—”

Addison pats his belly. “By getting you some pie?”

“Not what I had in mind, but I could go for some pie.” Dean clears his throat. “So, Olive Garden has pie, right?”

Addison smiles. “No, but we can stop somewhere after and get some pie.”


	20. Dead Man's Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, but I own the original characters.

Dean folds up the newspaper and sets it down on the table that the three of them were sitting at in the small diner. "All right. Not a decent lead in all of Nebraska. What do you got," Dean asks Sam, who was sitting across from Addison, working on his laptop.

"Well, I've been scanning Wyoming, Colorado, South Dakota. Here, a woman in Iowa fell ten thousand feet from an airplane and survived.” Sam tells them.

"That's more a miracle than anything else," Addison replies and Sam nods.

"Hey, you know, we could, uh — we could just keep it in the east. New York, upstate. We could stop by and see Sarah again, huh? She's a cool chick, man, smoking," Dean comments and Addison shakes her head in disbelief. "You two seemed pretty friendly. What do you say?"

Sam laughs. "Yeah, maybe, someday. But in the meantime, we've got a lot of work to do and you know that."

"What else do you have, Sam," Addison amusedly asks him.

"Uh, Manning, Colorado. A local man by the name of Daniel Elkins was found mauled in his home," Sam answers.

"Elkins? I know that name," Dean replies and pulls out John's journal, flipping through it.

"Doesn't ring a bell. It sounds like the police don't know what to think. At first, they said it was some sort of bear attack and now, they found signs of robbery."

"Mm-hmm." Dean sits the journal on the table and points to a contact page. "Here. Check it out."

Addison reads the page, reading 'D. Elkins,' with a phone number. "Do you think it could be the same person?"

"It's a Colorado area code," Dean says.

* * *

The three of them enter the house and Addison shines the flashlight around the living room, as her and Dean walk away from the door. Tables and chairs had been turned over. "Looks like the maid didn't come today," Dean comments and she laughs.

"Hey, there's salt over here. Right inside the door," Sam calls to them and Addison finds a journal sitting on a desk.

"You mean, like, protection against demons salt or, uh, 'Oops, I spilled the popcorn' salt?"

"It's clearly a ring. You think this guy, Elkins, was a player?"

"I'm pretty sure he was," Addison answers as Sam and Dean join her.

"That looks a hell of a lot like Dad's," Sam comments.

"The dates go all the way back to the sixties though," Addison replies and they make their way into an office that had been broken into. She's careful to step around the overturned furniture and sees the broken skylight.

"Whatever attacked him, it looks like there was more than one," Sam comments.

"Looks like he put up a hell of a fight, too," Dean tells them.

"Yeah, especially since it looks like whatever did it, jumped through the skylight," Addison informs them and sees Dean examining something on the floor. "Find something?"

"I don't know, just some scratches on the floor."

"Death throes, maybe," Sam suggests.

"Yeah, maybe," Dean replies and Addison watches as he grabs a piece of paper and a pencil from the desk, before doing a rubbing. "Or maybe a message." He hands her the paper and Sam reads it over her shoulder.

"Three letters, six digits. The location and combination of a post office box. It's a mail drop."

"Isn't that the same way that John does it," Addison asks and Dean nods.

* * *

Addison is leaning on the front seat of the Impala as they examine the envelope that had been in the post office box. Dean had broken into the small post office and gotten the letter out of the Elkins' p.o. box. "Do you think it could be for your dad? I mean the initials are J.W.," she comments.

"I don't know. Should we open it," Dean replies as someone bangs on the window, startling the three of them. "Dad?"

The three of them exchange a look as John opens the door and slides into the backseat next to her. "John, you okay," Addison asks him.

"Yeah. I'm okay. Look, I read the news about Daniel. I got here as fast as I could. I saw you three up at his place," John tells them.

"Why didn't you come in, Dad," Sam asks.

"You know why — because I had to make sure you weren't followed by anyone or anything. Nice job of covering your tracks, by the way."

"Yeah, well, we learned from the best," Dean replies.

"So you came out here for this Elkins guy," Addison asks John.

"Yeah. He was - he was a good man. He taught me a hell of a lot about hunting," John answers.

"You never mentioned him to us," Sam comments.

"We had, uh, we had kind of a falling out. I hadn't seen him in years. I should look at that." Dean hands John the letter and Addison watches as he opens it, silently reading it. "'If you're reading this, I'm already dead.' That son of a bitch."

"What is it," Dean asks him.

"He had it the whole time."

"Dad, what," Sam asks.

"When you searched the place, did you see a gun? An antique — a Colt revolver, did you see it?"

"Uh, there was an old case, but it was empty," Dean answers.

"They have it."

"You mean, whatever killed Elkins?"

"We've got to pick up the trail," John tells them and gets out of the Impala.

"Wait," Sam says and John turns back to them. "You want us to come with you?"

"If Elkins was telling the truth, we've got to find this gun."

"The gun? Why?"

"Because it's important, that's why."

"Dad, we don't even know what these things are yet."

"They were what Daniel Elkins killed best — vampires."

"Vampires," Dean disbelievingly states. "I thought there was no such thing."

"You never even mentioned them, Dad," Sam says.

"I thought they were extinct. I thought Elkins and others had wiped 'em out," John explains, then pauses for a moment. "I was wrong. Most vampire lore is crap. A cross won't repel them, sunlight won't kill them, and neither will a stake to the heart. But the bloodlust - that part's true. They need fresh human blood to survive. They were once people, so you won't know it's a vampire until it's too late."

* * *

Addison rolls over and buries her face in the warm pillow when something hits her foot. After leaving the post office, they had checked into a small motel just outside of town. "Sam, Dean, Addison, let's go," John says and Addison sits up, rubbing her eyes, as Dean does the same. "Picked up a police call."

"What happened," Sam tiredly asks.

"A couple called 911. They found a body in the street. Cops got there, everyone was missing. It's the vampires."

"How do you know?"

"Just follow me, okay," John replies and exits the room with Sam reluctantly following him.

"Vampires — gets funnier every time I hear it," Dean comments, grabbing his jacket. He notices a wet spot on his t-shirt. "Did you drool on me?"

Addison shakes her head as she grabs her Converses. "No. At least I don't think so." She wipes her face and finds her face wet. "Maybe I did."

* * *

Addison lets out a yawn and leans against Dean as they, along with Sam, wait by the Impala while John talks to the cops. "I don't see why we couldn't have gone over with him," Sam says.

"Oh, don't tell me it's already starting," Dean replies.

"What's starting," Sam asks as John walks back over to them.

Dean straightens up and moves away from Addison. "What do you got," Dean asks his father.

"It was them, all right. Looks like they're heading west. We're gonna have to double back to get around that detour," John answers.

"How can you be so sure," Sam asks.

"Sam," Dean warns.

"I just wanna know we're going in the right direction."

"We are," John replies.

"How do you know?"

"I found this."

Dean takes the object after John pulls it out and examines it. Addison looks over his shoulder. It was small, but white and pointy. "It's a vampire fang."

"Not fangs — teeth," John corrects, putting the tooth in his pocket. "The second set descends when they attack. Any more questions?" Sam doesn't say anything. "All right, let's get out of here, we're losing daylight. Hey, Dean, why don't you touch up your car before you get rust? I wouldn't have given you the damn thing if I thought you were gonna ruin it."

Addison watches as John gets in his truck and turns as Sam lightly chuckles getting into the Impala. She gives Dean a soft smile and lays a hand on his arm. "You okay," she softly asks and lets out a sigh when Dean doesn't reply before getting in the Impala.

* * *

"So, a vampire nest usually contains eight to ten vamps. A smaller group goes out hunting. They take victims back to the nest where they're kept alive and bleed them for days or weeks. Which is probably what happened to the 911 couple," Addison reads from her laptop. She closes her laptop and leans on the seat in front of her, looking between the silent brothers.

"That's probably what Dad's thinking. Of course, it would be nice if he just told us what he thinks," Sam comments.

"So, it is starting," Dean replies and Sam glances at his older brother from the driver's seat.

"What?"

"Sam, we've been looking for Dad all year. Now we're not with him for more than a couple of hours, and there's static already?"

"No. Look, I'm happy he's okay, all right? And I'm happy that we're all working together again."

"Good."

"It's just the way he treats us like we're children."

Dean groans. "Oh, God."

"He barks orders at us, Dean, he expects us to follow him without question. He keeps us on some crap need to know deal."

"He does what he does for a reason."

"What reason?"

"Our job! There's no time to argue, there's no margin for error, all right, it's just the way the old man runs—"

"Yeah, well, maybe that worked when we were kids, but not anymore, all right? Not after everything we've all been through, Dean. I mean, are you telling me you're cool with just falling into line and letting him run the whole show?"

"If that's what it takes," Dean answers after a moment and a tense silence falls over them. Addison lets out a frustrated sigh and leans back.

* * *

”Yeah, Dad. All right, got it," Dean says and hangs up his cell, turning to Sam. "Pull off at the next exit."

"Why," Sam asks and Addison looks between the brothers.

"Because Dad thinks we've got the vampires' trail."

"How?"

"I don't know, he didn't say," Dean answers. Sam presses down on the gas and Addison fearfully watches as the Impala pulls in front of John's truck before pulling to a stop. Sam gets out of the Impala as John climbs out of his truck. Addison exchanges a confused look with Dean as they get out. "Oh, shit. Here we go. Sam!"

"What the hell was that," John demands, walking over to Sam.

"We need to talk," Sam tensely answers.

"About what?"

"About everything. Where we going, Dad? What's the big deal about this gun?"

"Sammy, come on, we can Q and A after we kill all the vampires," Dean interrupts, walking towards them as Addison stays by the Impala.

"Your brother's right, we don't have time for this.” John says.

"Last time we saw you, you said it was too dangerous to be together. Now, out of the blue, you need our help. Now, obviously, something big is going down, and we wanna know what," Sam angrily replies.

"Get back in the car," John orders.

"No."

"I said get back in the damn car."

Sam stands face to face with his father. "Yeah. And I said no."

"All right, you made your point, tough guy. Look, we're all tired. We can talk about this later. Sammy, I mean it, come on," Dean suggests, pushing Sam towards the Impala, and Addison looks between them.

"This is why I left in the first place," Sam mutters.

"What'd you say," John demands, moving towards Sam.

"You heard me."

"Yeah. You left. Your brother and me, we needed you. You walked away, Sam, you walked away," John shouts, grabbing Sam's shirt.

"Stop it, both of you," Dean says, moving to them.

"You were the one who said 'don't come back,' Dad. You're the one who closed that door, not me! You were just pissed off you couldn't control me anymore," Sam yells.

"All right, stop it, stop it - stop it, that's enough," Dean shouts, pushing John and Sam apart. Sam makes his way to the Impala and John makes a move to go after him. "That means you, too." Dean turns to Addison after John climbs into his truck. She had no idea what to do. She didn't know what to say. "Terrific." Dean climbs into the Impala. Addison sighs and climbs into the backseat.

* * *

Addison, Dean, Sam, and John watch as a vampire looks around before walking back into the abandoned barn. Cars were parked outside the barn. "Son of a bitch. So, they're really not afraid of the sun.” Dean comments and Addison rolls her eyes.

"No, direct sunlight hurts like a nasty sunburn," John explains. "The only way to kill them is by beheading. And yeah, they sleep during the day. It doesn't mean they won't wake up."

"So, I guess walking right in isn't our best option."

"Actually, that's the plan."

They walk over to where John had parked his truck next to the Impala. Dean opens the trunk and takes out the machetes, handing one to Sam and Addison. He takes out an extra machete, turning to John. "Dad, I got an extra machete if you need one."

"Think I'm okay. Thanks," John replies, taking out a newer machete.

"Wow," Dean says, after seeing the updated set up John had in the back of his truck.

"So, you three really wanna know about this Colt," John asks and sees the three of them look at him.

"Yes, sir," Sam answers, exchanging a look with Dean and Addison.

"It's just a story - legend, really. Well, I thought it was. Never really believed it until I read Daniel's letter. Back in 1835, when Halley's Comet was overhead, the same night those men died at the Alamo, they say Samuel Colt made a gun — a special gun. He made it for a hunter — a man like us, only on horseback. The story goes he made thirteen bullets. This hunter used the gun a half dozen times before he disappeared, the gun along with him. Somehow, Daniel got his hands on it. They say — they say this gun can kill anything."

"Anything as in anything supernatural," Addison asks John.

"Like the demon," Sam disbelievingly states.

"Yeah, the demon. Ever since I picked up its trail, I've been looking for a way to destroy that thing. Find the gun, we may have it," John explains. Addison silently watches as the three Winchesters exchange a look and lets out a sigh.

* * *

Addison quietly makes her way through the vampire nest following John and with Dean and Sam behind her. She sees John move to a different part of the nest and goes after him. John gives her a look, telling Addison to follow Dean and Sam, but she glares at him and enters a nearby room. She pauses seeing two vampires, a man and a woman, sleeping in a bed and notices an antique looking gun sitting in a leather case next to the bed. Not waiting for John's okay, Addison slowly makes her way towards the gun.

The stair she steps on creaks and Addison looks up, checking to see if the vampires were still asleep. Letting out a relived sigh, she carefully continues towards the gun. When Addison reaches for the gun, a loud scream echoes throughout the warehouse and she looks to see the vampires awake. A force grabs the back of the leather jacket that Addison was wearing as an empty liquor bottle crashes through a window. "Boys, run," John shouts, shoving Addison out of the room. Addison runs out of the warehouse with John following her. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"That there's the Colt and that I can get it," Addison replies and hears Dean shouting for them.

"You knew exactly what the Colt was when I mentioned it."

"Of course I did! My dad told me the story about it when I was growing up," Addison argues as they reach the clearing where Dean and Sam were waiting. "Cause contrary to what you believe, John, I do know how to do this job." Her foot catches on a log and she falls to the ground. Addison quickly stands up and brushes herself off. She glares at Dean.

"They won't follow," John states, walking over to his truck. "They'll wait until tonight. Once a vampire gets your scent, it's for life."

"What the hell do we do now," Dean asks his father.

"You and Addison got to find the nearest funeral home, that's what."

* * *

Addison stares at Dean while he drives back to the motel room. It had been easier than she thought it would be get a jar of blood from the local funeral home. She mainly distracted the one attendant that was there while Dean had snuck in to get the jar. "You have to admit that I get along better with your dad than Sam does," she states, but Dean keeps his gaze on the road. "Dean, you gotta say something."

"What do you want me to say, Addison," Dean responds. "Sam fights with Dad more than you do. But at least you get along better with him. It's bullshit. And you knew what the Colt was? Why didn't you say something?"

Addison rolls her eyes. "I was kid when he told me. I didn't think it was real."

"Did you know about vampires?"

"Dean, if I knew about vampires, I would've told you. But I'm doing the best I can here. It's so awkward standing there while John and Sam fight. Besides it's not your job to play family peacekeeper, Dean."

“Addison—"

"It's not your job, Dean. I know you don't want to see them fight, but it's not your job to make them get along. And for once in your life, grow a pair, and stand up to your dad."

"Just because things were peachy between you and your dad, Addison, doesn't mean you get to judge the relationship I have with my family."

Addison shakes her head and looks out the window. “All right. Fine. Whatever."

* * *

Addison watches as the female vampire grabs Dean's face and forcible kisses him. The plan had been for Dean to pretend to work on the Impala, while the rest of them hid in the woods. John raises the crossbow and fires the arrow that was covered in dead man's blood, hitting the vampire in the chest. Sam fires another arrow, hitting the male vampire in the chest. The three of them walk down to Dean and the vampires from their hiding spot in the woods. "Damn it," the female vampire says. "Barely even stings."

"Give it time, sweetheart. That arrow's soaked in dead man's blood. It's like poison to you, isn't it," John replies and the vampire faints, falling into Dean's open arms. "Load her up. I'll take care of this one."

Addison moves and helps Dean put the vampire in John's truck. "You got any Scope," Dean quietly asks her as John beheads the other vampire.

Addison snorts in amusement, but nods. "Yeah, it's in my bag back at the motel."

* * *

John hands Dean something as they stand in the woods by a fire and Addison winkles her nose at the smell. "Toss this on the fire. Saffron, skunks, cabbage, and trillium — it'll block our scent and hers until we're ready," John explains.

"That stuff smells like shit," Addison comments.

"Well, that's the idea, Addison. Dust your clothes and you'll stand a chance of not being detected."

"You sure they'll come after her?” Sam asks, motioning to where the vampire was tied to a tree.

"Yeah. Vampires mate for life. She means more to the leader than the gun. But the blood sickness is gonna wear off soon. So, you don't have a lot of time."

"Half-hour ought to do it."

"And then I want you out of the area as fast as you can."

“But—"

"Dad, you can't take care of them all yourself," Dean interrupts.

"I'll have her and the Colt," John counters.

"But after — we're gonna meet up, right? Use the gun together, right," Sam asks and John remains quiet. "You're leaving again, aren't you? You still want to go after the demon alone? You know, I don't get you. You can't treat us like this."

"Like what?"

"Like children."

"You and Dean are my children. I'm trying to keep you safe."

"Dad, all due respect, but that's a bunch of crap," Dean comments and Sam, John, and Addison, look at him, surprise written on their faces.

"Excuse me."

"You know what Sammy, Ads, and I have been hunting. Hell, you sent us on a few hunting trips yourself. You can't be that worried about keeping us safe."

"It's not the same thing, Dean."

"Then what is it? Why do you want us out of the big fight?"

"This demon? It's a bad son of a bitch. I can't make the same moves if I'm worried about keeping you alive."

"You mean you can't be as reckless."

"Look, I don't expect to make it out of this fight in one piece. Your mother's death — it almost killed me. I can't watch my children die, too. I won't."

"What happens if you die? Dad, what happens if you die and we could have done something about it? You know, I've been thinking — I think maybe Sammy's right about this one. I think we should do this together. We're stronger as a family, Dad. We just are. You know it."

"We're running out of time. You do your job, and you get out of the area. That's an order," John sternly says and walks away. Addison reaches out and grasps Dean's hand, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

* * *

After finishing cleaning out the vampire's nest, the three of them went to help John. Dean fires an arrow and runs out to the street, with Sam and Addison following him. Dean shoots another arrow into a vampire and turns to see as the lead vampire grabs Sam. He pulls out a knife and notices Addison doing the same thing. "Don't," the vampire warns, squeezing Sam's neck. "I'll break his neck. Put the blade down. Both of you." Dean doesn't move as Addison lowers her arm. Sam lets out a grasp for air and Dean looks at him, then slowly lowers his arm. "You people. Why can't you just leave us alone? We have as much right to live as you do."

"I don't think so," John says and the small group turns to see him holding the Colt. He fires the gun and hits the vampire in the forehead. The vampire's grip on Sam loosens and he runs over to Dean and Addison. The vampire falls to his knees, with blood trickling out of the bullet wound.

"Luther," the female vampire yells and a flash comes from Luther.

The vampire starts to stalk over to John, but is stopped by another vampire. "Kate, don't!" The two vampires turn and walk to the cars. They get in and drive away, leaving behind them a surprised Dean, Sam, and Addison.

* * *

Sam gives Addison a thankful look as she hands him a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin. They were back in the motel room, packing up and trying to figure out what to do next. Dean walks out of the bathroom and tosses Addison's makeup bag at her. She glares at him and picks up the bag off the ground. The door opens and John walks in. "So, boys," John begins.

Sam stands up from the bed. "Yes, sir?"

"You ignored a direct order back there."

"Yes, sir."

"But we saved your ass," Dean says, surprising Sam and Addison.

"You're right," John replies.

"I am?"

"It scares the hell out of me. You two are all I've got. But I guess we are stronger as a family. So, we got after this damn thing — together."

"Yes, sir."


	21. Salvation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, but I own the original characters.

Addison sat on the motel bed while Sam and Dean stood. And all of them were staring at John, who was sitting at the table with a bunch of papers and the Colt sitting on the table. The walls were covered in papers. All of the papers either had something circled or highlighted. Weather reports were mixed in with various newspaper articles. "So, this is it. This is everything I know. Look, our whole lives we've been searching for this demon, right? And not a trace, just nothing, until about a year ago. For the first time, I picked up a trail," John says.

"That's when you took off," Dean comments.

John nods. "Yeah, that's right. The demon must have come out of hiding or hibernation."

"All right, so, what's this trail you found?"

"It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, California — houses are burning down to the ground. It's going after families, just like it went after us."

"Families with infants?” Sam asks.

"Yeah — the night of the kid's six month birthday."

"I was six months old that night?"

"Exactly six months."

"So, basically, this demon is going after these kids for some reason — the same way it came for me? So, Mom's death, Jessica — it's all cause of me?"

"We don't know that, Sam," Addison softly comments.

"Oh, really, cause I'd say we're pretty damn sure, Addison."

"What happened to them is not your fault. So, stop blaming yourself."

"Yeah, you're right, it's not my fault, but it's my problem!"

"No, it's not your problem, it's our problem," Dean counters.

"Okay. That's enough," John says, stopping the argument. He stands up and they're all silent.

"So, why is it doing it," Sam asks after a moment. "What does it want?"

"Look, I wish I had more answers. I do. I've always been one step one behind it. Look, I've never gotten there in time to save..." John trails off.

"All right, so, how do we find it before it hits again," Dean asks.

"There's signs. Look, it took me a while to see the pattern, but in the days before these fires, signs crop up in the area — cattle deaths, temperature fluctuations, electrical storms. And then I went back and checked and—"

"These things happened in Lawrence."

"The week before your mother died," John replies and looks at Sam. "And in Palo Alto, before Jessica. And these things — they're starting again."

"Where," Addison asks.

"Salvation, Iowa," John answers. Addison looks between the three Winchesters, knowing what it meant. She may not have been a member of the Winchester family, but she was involved in the fight.

* * *

The Impala speeds down the road passing a sign that welcomed them to Salvation, Iowa. The black GMC truck in front of them pulls off to the side of the road and Dean does the same. They all step out. "Damn it," John lets out.

"What is it," Dean asks.

"Son of a bitch!" John takes a deep breath. "I just got a call from Caleb."

"Is he okay?"

"He's fine. Jim Murphy is dead."

"Pastor Jim," Sam asks and John nods. "How?"

"Throat was slashed - he bled out," John answers. "Caleb said they found traces of sulfur at Jim's place."

"The demon," Dean questions and John nods. " _The_  demon?"

"I don't know. Could be he just got careless, he slipped up. Maybe the demon knows we're getting close."

"What do you want to do?"

"Now we act like every second counts. There's two hospitals and a health center in this county. We split up, we cover more ground. I want records. I want a list of every infant that's gonna be six months old in the next week."

"John, that's dozens of kids," Addison counters, speaking up for the first time. "How are we know which one is the right one?"

"We'll check 'em all, that's how," John snaps. "You got any better ideas?"

Addison shakes her head. "No."

They all turn to get back into the respective vehicles. Dean notices John pause by the door to his truck. "Dad," Dean asks.

John turns around. He shakes his head. "Yeah, it's Jim. You know, I can't..." He takes a deep breath and lets it out. A determined look appears on his face. "This ends. Now. I'm ending it. I don't care what it takes."

* * *

Sam smiles as the receptionist puts down another stack of files on the table. Addison sat across from him, going through a different stack. Instead of all of them each taking a different hospital, Addison had teamed up with him while John and Dean went their separate ways. "Does it make you feel better," Addison asks.

"What," Sam asks, confused.

Addison smiles. "Knowing you're not the only person who pisses off your dad by questioning orders." Sam chuckles and grabs a file off the top. "We'll be done before them through."

"Yeah. So, what are you and Dean fighting about this week?" A confused look appears on her face. "Ads, you and Dean are either fighting or flirting. This week you're fighting."

"And it'll be like that even when I'm married and have kids."

Sam glances at her. "You want to get married?"

"Of course. I didn't think it was that big of a shock—"

"It's not that, Ads. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only person in this family that wants a normal life."

"Well, technically—"

"You're family, Addison. No matter what anyone says, you're family," Sam tells her. Addison smiles and they continue looking through the files. A couple of hours later, they walk out of the hospital with a list of every infant ready to turn six months old in the next couple of weeks.

They walk along the street. Sam rubs his head as sharp pains erupt. "Sam," Addison asks, placing a hand on his arm. He closes his eyes and grips her shoulder. Images flash through his mind, then suddenly stop. He opens his eyes and sees a concerned look on Addison's face. "Sam, you okay?"

Sam nods. "Yeah," he pants. "Where's the map?"

* * *

Sam could feel the concerned glances from Addison as they walk down the street. Houses were on one side with a railroad behind it. A park was on the other side. He gives her a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Ads."

"I can't help it that I worry about you, Sam," Addison replies, looping her arm around his. He stops walking when they pass a house. Her gaze goes between him and the house. "Is this the house you saw?"

"Yeah." He notices a woman pushing stroller and carrying an umbrella. Sam pulls away from Addison and walks over to the woman. "Hi," he greets. The woman smiles as she struggles to close the umbrella. He grabs the stroller as Addison reaches them. "Here, let me hold that."

"Thanks," the woman replies.

Addison smiles at the baby. "She's adorable," she says. "Is she yours?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, wow," Sam says. "I'm sorry, we're rude. I'm Sam and this is my girlfriend, Addison. We just moved in up the block."

"Oh, hey. I'm Monica," she says, shaking their hands. "This is Rosie."

"Rosie," Addison asks and Monica nods. "Hi, Rosie."

"So, welcome to the neighborhood."

"Thanks. She really is adorable and good."

"I know. I mean, she never cries. She just stares at everybody. Sometimes she looks at you, and I swear, it's like she's reading your mind."

"What about you, Monica," Sam asks. "Have you lived here long?"

"My husband and I, we bought our place just before Rosie was born."

"How old is Rosie?"

"She's six months today," Monica answers, stunning them. "She's big, right? Growing like a weed."

"Yeah. Monica." Monica looks at Sam, waiting. "Just take care of yourself, okay?"

"Yeah," Monica replies. "You too. We'll see you around."

"Yeah. Definitely."

"It was nice to meet you," Addison adds, before her and Sam walk down the street. He glances back to see a car pull into the driveway of Monica's house. He turns back around as another vision hits him. Images of Monica in a nursery, of a figure standing next to crib, then Monica pinned against the wall and moving up the ceiling, flood his mind. The vision ends and Addison is back in front of him, with a fearful look on her face.

* * *

Addison sits down at the table with a bottle of water and some aspirin for Sam. After his last vision, they had made their way to motel, meeting up with John and Dean in the process. Dean and John were sitting on the beds, listening to Sam explain his vision. "A vision," John asks after Sam finishes.

"Yes," Sam replies. "I saw the demon burning a woman on the ceiling."

"And you think it's gonna happen to this woman you met because—"

"Because these things happen exactly the way I see them."

"They were nightmares at first," Addison says. "Then he started having them while he was awake."

"Yeah," Sam agrees. "It's like the closer I get to anything involving the demon, the stronger the visions get."

"All right, when were you gonna tell me about this," John demands.

"We didn't know what it mean," Dean answers.

"All right, something like this starts happening to your brother, you pick up the phone and you call me."

"Call you? Are you kidding me? Dad, I called you from Lawrence, all right? Sam and Addison called you when I was dying. Getting you on the phone — I've got a better chance of winning the lottery."

John stares at him for a moment. "You're right. Although I'm not real crazy about this new tone of yours, you're right. I'm sorry."

"Look, guys," Sam begins. "Visions or no visions, the fact is we know the demon is coming tonight. And this family's gonna go through the same hell that we went through."

"No, they're not. No one is, ever again."

Sam's phone rings. Addison frowns as he picks it up off he table. "Hello? Who is this," he asks. A shocked look appears on his face. "Meg. Last time I saw you, you fell out of a window. Just your feelings? That was a seven story drop." Sam's gaze darts over to John. "My dad — I don't know where my dad is."

John stands up and walks over. Sam reluctantly hands him the phone. "This is John." A sad look crosses his face. "I'm here. Caleb? Caleb." Dean and Sam exchange worried looks. "You listen to me. He's got nothing to do with anything. You let him go. I don't know what you're talking about. Caleb? Caleb!" They watch as an angry look appears on John's face. "I'm gonna kill you, you know that?" He says something they don't understand. "I said okay. I'll bring you the Colt. It's gonna take about a day's drive to get there. That's impossible. I can't get there in time and I can't just carry gun on a plane."

John hangs up, then drops the phone on the table. "So, you think Meg is a demon," Sam asks.

"Either that or she's possessed by one. It doesn't really matter."

"What do we do," Dean asks, standing up.

"I'm going to Lincoln."

"What?"

"It doesn't seem like I have a choice. If I don't go, a lot of people die. Our friends die."

"Dad, the demon is coming tonight for Monica and her family. That gun is all we've got. You can't just hand it over," Sam counters.

"Who said anything about handing it over? Look, besides us and a couple vampires, no one's really seen the gun. No one knows what it looks like."

"So, you're gonna buy a fake at a pawn shop—" Addison starts.

"Antique store."

Addison rolls her eyes. "Fine. You're gonna buy a fake at an antique store and hope that she doesn't know the difference?"

"Look, as long as it's close, she shouldn't be able to tell the difference."

"Yeah, but for how long," Dean asks. "What happens when she figures it out?"

"I just — I just need to buy a few hours, thats all."

"You mean for us," Sam states. John remains quiet. "You want us to stay here and kill this demon by ourselves?"

"No, Sam. I want to stop losing people we love. I want you to go to school. I want Dean to have a home." John turns away from them. "I want Mary alive." He shakes his head and looks at them. "I just - I just want this to be over."

* * *

Sam looks over Addison's shoulder as she works on a sudoku puzzle she had gotten out of a local newspaper. They were waiting on an abandoned road with John for Dean to come back after picking up an antique gun. John had busied himself with organizing weapons in the back of his truck. "You know that you can put a five there," he says, pointing to an empty square.

"I didn't ask for you help, Stanford," Addison says, pushing his hand away.

Sam laughs. "Is that supposed to be an insult? Cause you know that Stanford is one of the top schools in the country."

"Yeah, but it's no Yale."

A loud rumble causes them to turn and they see the Impala pull to a stop. Dean climbs out, carrying a paper bag. "Did you get it," John asks, slamming the truck gate closed.

Dean takes an antique gun out of the bag and hands it to John. "You know this is a trap, don't you," he asks. "That's why Meg wants you to come alone."

"I can handle her. I got a whole arsenal loaded — holy water, Mandaic amulets—"

"Dad..."

"What?"

"Promise me something."

"What's that?"

"This thing goes south, just get the hell out. Don't get yourself killed, all right? You're no good to us dead."

"Same goes for you," John replies after a moment. "All right, listen to me." He takes the Colt out of his jacket. "They made the bullets special for this Colt. There's only four of 'em left. Without 'em, this gun is useless. You make every shot count."

"Yes, sir," Sam tells him.

"I've been waiting a long time for this fight. Now it's here and I'm not gonna be in it. It's up to you boys now. It's your fight. You finish this. You finish what I started. You understand?"

They nod. John hands Dean the Colt. "We'll see you soon, Dad."

"I'll see you later," John replies, then climbs into his truck and drives off.

"Later," Dean softly says.

* * *

Addison was stretched out in the backseat of the Impala. Dean and Sam were sitting in the front seat and they were all watching Monica's house for any signs that the demon would appear. She yawns as she pulls her jacket close. "Maybe we can tell them there's a gas leak," Sam comments. "Might get 'em out of the house for a few hours."

"Yeah, and how many times has that actually worked for us," Dean counters.

"Could always tell 'em the truth." Addison snorts and Sam nods. "I know. I know, I know. I just — with what's coming for these people—"

"Sam, we've only got one move and you know it, alright? We've got to wait for that demon to show itself and then we get it before it gets them."

"I wonder how Dad's doing."

"I'd feel a lot better if we were there backing him up."

"I'd feel a lot better if he were here backing us up." Silence settles back over them, then Sam realizes something. "This is weird."

"What?"

"After all these years, we're finally here. It doesn't seem real."

"We just got to keep our heads and do our job like always."

"Yeah, but this isn't like always."

"True."

"Dean, Ads, uh, I wanna thank you."

"For what?"

"For everything. You guys have always had my back, you know? Even when I couldn't count on anyone, I could always count on you guys. And now, I don't know, I just wanted to let you know — just in case."

Addison sits up and slaps the back of his head. "Shut up. You're not gonna say that speech, Sam. Cause the only thing that's dying tonight is that damn demon. Okay?" Sam stares at her for a moment, then nods. She settles back into the seat.

A couple of hours later, Dean hangs up his phone and shoves it into his pocket. "Dad's not answering," Dean says.

"Maybe Meg was late," Sam replies. "Maybe cell reception's bad."

"Yeah, well..." Dean turns his gaze back to the house. Static comes on the radio.

Addison leans forward. "Did you guys notice that," she asks, looking between them. Dean tries changing the station but the static continues. Sam notices lights inside the house flickering and they exchange a look.

"It's coming," Sam states and they all climb out of the Impala. Addison looks around the street as Dean picks the lock. He opens the door and they enter the house.

Suddenly a man walks in carrying a baseball bat. He swings the bat, but Dean grabs him and pins him against the wall. "Get out of my house," the man shouts. "Get out of my house!"

"Mr. Holt, please," Sam quietly tells him.

"Be quiet and listen to me," Dean says. "We're trying to help you, okay?"

"Charlie," Monica calls. Addison looks to see her standing at the top of the stairs. "Is everything okay down there?"

"Monica, get the baby," Charlie shouts.

"No, don't go in the nursery," Sam yells as Monica disappears. He runs after her with Addison on his heels. They enter the nursery. Monica was against the wall, her feet weren't touching the floor. A dark figure stood next to the crib. The figure had strange colored eyes. Sam fires the Colt, but the figure disappears in a cloud of black smoke. Monica falls to the floor and Addison runs over to help her up. "Where the hell did it go?"

Addison starts to pull Monica out of the room as Dean rushes in. "My baby," Monica screams.

"Dean has her," Addison replies, forcing the woman out of the room. Sam quickly helps her and they run out of the house as the windows in the nursery explode. Dean is right behind them, carrying a small bundle wrapped in a pink blanket.

"You get away from my family," Charlie shouts.

"Charlie, don't," Monica replies. "They saved us." Dean hands Rosie to Monica. "They saved us. Thank you."

Addison smiles at them. "It's still in there," Sam growls, starting towards the door. She looks up and sees a figure standing in the window.

"Sam, no," Dean says, pushing him away from the door.

"Dean, let me go! It's still in there!"

"Burning to the ground - it's suicide!"

"I don't care!"

"I do!”

* * *

Addison sighs as she sits down on the motel bed. Sam was sitting on the other bed. They had left Monica and Charlie's house before the police had gotten there. Dean was pacing around the room, trying to call John. "Come on, Dad. Answer your phone, damn it," he says, then hangs up. "Something's wrong." Addison glances at Sam, but he doesn't say anything. She was worried about him. He had been silent during the drive back to the motel. "You hear me? Something's happened."

"If you had just let me go in there, I could have ended all this," Sam angrily says.

"Sam," Addison softly says. "If you had done that then you've ended up killing yourself."

"You don't know that."

"So, what, you're just willing to sacrifice yourself, is that it," Dean coldly asks.

Sam stares up, glaring at his brother. "Yeah. Yeah, you're damn right I am."

"Yeah, well, that's not gonna happen - not as long as I'm around."

"What the hell are you talking about, Dean? We've been searching for this demon our whole lives. It's the only thing we've ever cared about."

"Sam, I wanna waste it. I do, okay? But it's not worth dying over."

"What?"

"I mean it. If hunting this demon means you getting yourself killed, then I hope we never find the damn thing."

"That thing killed Jess. That thing killed Mom."

"You said yourself once that no matter what we do, they're gone. And they're never coming back."

The second Sam slams Dean against the wall, Addison stands up. Thing were tense enough between them, but she didn't want them to start physically hurting each other. "Sam, let him go," she says.

"Don't you say that," Sam tells him, ignoring Addison all together. "Don't you — not after all this, don't you say that!"

"Sammy, look," Dean starts. The emotions he always kept buried were right under the surface. "The four of us — that's all we have. And that's all I have. Sometimes I feel like I'm barely holding it together, man." Sam lets go of him and steps back. "Without you and Dad and Ads..."

Sam walks away from them. He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself. He knew Dean was right about that. Addison gives Dean a comforting smile, then walks back over to the beds. "Dad," Sam says. "He should have called by now. Try him again."

Dean grabs his cell off the table and calls John once again. An angry look appears on his face and he looks at them. "Where is he?"


	22. Devil's Trap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural, but I own the original characters.  
> AN: Finally, the season one finale. Surprises await you. To make it easier, I’m doing each season as a separate story.

Dean Winchester was pissed. He had been since his father’s phone had been answered and it wasn’t his father. But hearing Meg tell him that they would never see John again had shocked him. Sam and Addison were staring at him with anxious looks on their faces, waiting for him to tell them what was going on. “They’ve got Dad,” he says, hanging up his phone.

“Meg,” Sam asks and Dean nods. “What’d she say?”

“I just told you, Sammy.” Dean walks away from them, wiping his face. The last thing he wanted was for either of them to see him with tears in his eyes. He takes a deep breath. “Okay. Okay.”

The Colt was sitting on the table and Dean grabs it, then shoves it in the back of his jeans. Addison starts packing up her duffel bag as he does the same. She always knew what he was thinking. “What are you doing, Dean,” Sam asks.

“We gotta go.”

“Why?”

“Because the demon knows we’re in Salvation, all right. It knows we’ve got the Colt, it’s got Dad, it’s probably coming for us next.”

“Good. We’ve still got three bullets left. Let it come.”

“Sam,” Addison disbelievingly begins. “We don’t know how many demons are gonna come. And we’re nowhere near ready. So, we’re leaving. Now.”

* * *

Addison stifles a yawn as she sits down on the couch next to Dean. She kicks off her flip flops and slides her feet under Dean’s leg. She had barely gotten any sleep the night before as Dean and Sam spent half the night before arguing. The house they were currently in was a faded sky blue while the yard was littered with junk cars and other rusted car parts. A black and tan coonhound was lying on the hood of a dirty blue pickup truck. The house was owned by a man in his early fifties, who wore an old truck hat, and had a scruffy beard.

Bobby Singer was a hunter who lived just outside of Sioux Fall, South Dakota. His living room served as a library of sorts. Books were stacked all around the room. A large desk was covered in papers and more books. Sam was sitting behind the desk, looking through one of the books. Bobby walks in and hands Dean a flash. “Here ya go.”

“What is this,” Dean asks. “Holy water?”

“That one is.” Bobby holds up another flask. “This is whiskey.” He takes a swig, then hands it to Dean. Dean takes a swigs and holds it out to Addison, who shakes her head in response.

“Bobby, thanks. Thanks for everything. To tell you the truth, I wasn’t sure if we should come.”

“Nonsense. Your daddy needs help.”

“Except the last time we saw you, you threaten to shoot John with buckshot,” Addison amusedly says. “You had the gun cocked and everything.”

Bobby shrugs. “Yeah, well, what can I say? John just has that effect on people.”

“Yeah, I guess he does,” Dean reluctantly agrees. Addison could easily count the number of times she had seen John Winchester and her father, Patrick, argue over something.

“None of that matters now. All that matters is that you get him back.”

“Bobby, this book,” Sam begins. Addison doesn’t move as Bobby and Dean walk over to him. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“The Key of Solomon? It’s the real deal, all right.”

“And these protective circles — they really work?”

“Hell yeah. You get a demon in one, they’re trapped — powerless. It’s like a satanic roach motel.”

Sam laughs. “The man knows his stuff,” Dean tell his younger brother.

“I’ll tell you something else too — this some serious shit you three stepped in,” Bobby says.

Addison frowns, sitting up. “What do you mean?”

“Normal year, I hear about, say three demonic possessions, maybe four, tops.”

“And…”

“This year, I’ve heard of twenty-seven so far. You get what I’m saying? More and more demons are walking among us — a lot more.”

“Do you know why,” Sam asks.

“No, but I know it’s something big. A storm’s coming. And you three, John — you are smack in the middle of it.” Suddenly, a dog starts barking and Bobby walks over to the window. “Rumsfeld, what is it?” The dog stops barking. “Something’s wrong.”

The door bursts open and Addison stands up as Meg walks in. “No more crap, okay?” Dean starts walking towards her, but is thrown into a wall. Meg moves toward Sam and Bobby, who back up. Addison moves around the couch, towards the desk. “I want the Colt, Sam — the real Colt. Right now.”

“We don’t have it on us,” Sam replies. “We buried it.”

“Didn’t I say, ‘No more crap?’ I swear, after everything I heard about you Winchesters, I’ve got to tell you, I’m a underwhelmed. First, Johnny tries to pawn off a fake gun and then he leaves the real gun with two chuckleheads. Lackluster, men. I mean, did you really think I wouldn’t find you?”

“Actually, we were counting on it,” Dean say from behind Meg. Meg turns around and he looks up at the ceiling. On the faded yellow ceiling was an intricate protective circle. “Gotcha.”

* * *

Addison pours salt on the window still in Bobby’s kitchen. It was small. A bank of phones hung on the wall with a range of labels on them. Sam and Dean were dealing with Meg while she and Bobby checked the salt lines. From where she was standing, she could see that the yard was filled with cars. One of the cars was partially covered in a tarp, but the cherry red paint could be seen. Memories and emotions connected with the car float to the top, but Addison pushes them down and walks out of the kitchen. She finds Dean and Sam standing with Bobby near the doorway. “All the kitchen windows are salted.”

Dean nods and walks over to where Meg was tied to a chair in the middle of the circle. “Where’s our father, Meg?”

Meg smirks at him. “You didn’t ask very nice.”

“Where’s our father, bitch?”

“Jeez, you kiss your mother with that mouth? Oh, I forgot. You don’t.”

Anger rolls off of Dean. He leans in close to her. “Hey, you think this is a fucking game? Where is he? What did you do to him?”

“He died screaming. I killed him myself.” Dean steps back for a second, then backhands her. The smirk on Meg’s face grows. “That’s kind of a turn — you hitting a girl.”

“You’re no girl.”

“Dean,” Bobby sternly says.

Dean reluctantly walks back over to them. “You okay,” Sam asks.

“Shy’s lying, he’s not dead,” Dean angrily replies.

“Dean, you’ve got to be careful with her,” Bobby tells him. “Don’t hurt her.”

Dean frowns. “Why?”

“Because she really is a girl. That’s why.”

Realization dawns on Addison. She glances at Meg. “She’s possessed,” she asks, turning back to Bobby. She had never seen someone possessed, but had been told a couple of signs by her father.

“That’s a human possessed by a demon,” Bobby confirms.

“You’re trying to tell there’s an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there,” Dean asks and Bobby nods. “That’s actually good news.”

“They watch as Dean walks out of the room. Sam turns to Addison. “Why didn’t you say something earlier, Ads?”

“Because I’ve never seen someone actually possessed by a demon before, Sam,” Addison quietly explains as Dean walks back over carrying John’s journal.

It was open to certain page and Dean hands it to Sam. “You’re gonna read,” Dean orders, then enters the living room with Sam behind him.

“Are you gonna read me a story,” Meg mocks.

Dean glares. “Something like that. Hit it, Sam.”

Sam reads the Latin written on the page and Meg stares at Dean. “An exorcism? Are you serious?”

“Oh, we’re going for it, baby — head-spinning, projectile vomiting, the whole nine yards.”

Meg winces and lets out a moan of pain causing Sam to stop. The demon glares at them. “I’m gonna kill you. I’m gonna rip the bones from your body.”

“No, you’re gonna burn in Hell — unless you tell us where our dad is.” Meg just glares at him. “Well, at least you’ll get a nice tan.” Dean nod at Sam, who continues reading.

Addison walks out of the room when Meg screams. An overwhelming feeling of guilt had overtaken her. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, willing away the tears. She takes a deep and closes her eyes, willing away the tears. Footsteps sound behind her. She wipes away the tears and turns around, expecting Sam or Dean and not Bobby. “Bobby, that girl in there is gonna die. She got thrown out of a seven story building, so when that demon is gone…that poor girl has gone threw at least another month of being possessed and I didn’t notice.” Addison takes another deep breath, hoping to hold back more tears.

Bobby nods. He could deal with monsters, but crying women were a different thing. “Ain’t your fault,” he tells her before walking out of the kitchen. Addison grabs a paper towel and he gaze lands on the red car.

_Addison shakes her head as she sits down on the worn couch. Bobby shrugs and pours himself a glass of whiskey. “Would it be okay if I left my dad’s car here?” she asks, playing with the diamond ring on her left ring finger. “I told Wes that Dad died in a car accident, so I can’t go back to New Haven with his car.”_

_“It’s no problem, girl,” Bobby answers, sitting down behind his desk. Addison shoots him a thankful look. He looks in his glass. “Look, I ain’t good at this kind of stuff. But Patrick asked me to look out for you if something happens. So, you ever need anything…”_

_Bobby’s caught off guard when Addison hugs him. She pulls back and takes a deep breath. “So, my wedding is next June in the Hamptons. You have to wear a tux or a suit, but trucker hats are okay. You’ll just have to ignore Wes’ mother.”_

_Bobby nods, then clears his throat. “I hate to ask this, but where’s Patrick’s body?”_

_Addison shifts. “Oh, I, uh, I — I salted and burned it already. I — I did it before I left Maine.”_

“Ads.” She dabs her face before turning around. Sam was standing in the doorway, with a concerned look on his face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Addison replies, tossing the paper towel in the trash can.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Sam nods, unconvinced. “We’re leaving.” She starts to walk out of the kitchen, but he pulls her into a hug. He holds her for a moment, then lets go and together, they leave.

* * *

They were parked by a river, each doing their own thing. Dean was looking through the trunk. Sam was reading through the book that Bobby had let him borrow. And Addison sat in the backseat, pulling her hair into a ponytail. Sam had filled her in on what had happened while she was out. “You’ve been quiet,” Sam says.

“Just getting ready,” Dean replies.

“He’s gonna be fine, Dean,” Addison says, standing up. She joins him at the trunk and starts rummaging through her duffle bag.

Sam wipes some dust off the trunk lid and starts drawing on the Impala. “Dude, what are you drawing on my car,” Dean demands.

Addison looks up to see what Sam’s doing and stares at him. “Is that my eyeliner?”

“It’s called a devil’s trap. Demons can’t get through it or inside it,” Sam explains, not looking up.

“So.” Dean counters.

“It basically turns to the trunk into a lockbox.” Sam moves to the other side and draws another devil’s trap.

“So?”

“I think the question is why do you have to use my eyeliner to do that,” Addison says.

Sam rolls his eyes. “We have a place to hide the Colt while we go get Dad.”

“What are you talking about,” Dean asks. “We’re bringing the Colt with us.”

“We can’t, Dean. We’ve only got three bullets left. We can’t just use ‘em on any demon. We’ve got to use ‘em on the demon.”

“No, we have to save Dad, Sam, okay? We’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

“Dean, you know how pissed Dad would be if we used all the bullets? He wouldn’t want us to bring the gun.”

“I don’t care, Sam! I don’t care what Dad wants, okay? And since when do you care what Dad wants?”

“We want to kill this demon. You used to want that too! Hell, you’re the one who came and got me at school! You’re the one who dragged me back into this, Dean! I’m just trying to finish it!”

Dean stares at his younger brother. “Well, you and Dad are a lot more alike than I thought, you know that? You both can’t wait to sacrifice yourself for this thing. But you know what? I’m gonna be the one to bury you. You’re selfish, you know that? You don’t care about anything but revenge.”

Sam shakes his head. “That’s not true, Dean. I want Dad back. But they are expecting us touring the gun. They get the gun, they will kill us all. That Colt is our only leverage and you know it, Dean. We cannot bring that gun. We can’t.”

Addison sighs. “Guys.”

“Fine,” Dean replies.

“I’m serious, Dean,” Sam tells him.

“I said ‘fine,’ Sam.” Dean takes the Colt out of his jacket. He flashes it at them, then tosses it in the trunk and slams the lid shut. Addison shakes her head. She wanted nothing more for the day to be over. For things to go back to being semi-normal for them. Nobody says anything as they start walking along side the river. “Hey, hey,” Dean says, stopping. He motions to an apartment building with a big yellow sign in front of it. “I think I know what Meg meant by ‘Sunrise.’ Son of a bitch. That’s pretty smart. I mean, if these demons can possess people, they can posses almost anybody inside.”

“Which means that anybody can attack us,” Addison reasons.

“And so we can’t kill ‘em — a building full of human shields.”

“They probably know exactly what we look like,” Sam says. “And they can look like anybody.”

“This sucks out loud.”

Addison snorts. “Yeah. So, what’s the plan?”

“Pull the fire alarm. Get out all the civilians.”

Sam nods. “Okay. But then the city responds in, what, seven minutes?”

“Seven minutes exactly.”

* * *

Addison ignores the weight of the oxygen tank on her back as she follows Dean and Sam down a hallway in the apartment building. She had no problems with the fireman’s jacket or the face bask, but she found it difficult to walk with the added weight of the tank, especially when she felt that she would fall backwards with every step she took and end up looking like a turtle on her back. “I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up,” Dean comments, snapping Addison out of her thoughts.

“Why did you ever tell me that,” Addison amusedly asks him. The EMF meter in Sam’s hand suddenly goes off. The trio stops and exchanges a look.

Dean knocks on the door. “This is the fire department, we need you to evacuate!” The door unlocks and Addison stands back as they burst into the apartment. She enters after the boys and closes the door as they push a couple of demons into a nearby closet. Dean holds the door close as Sam pours a salt ring in front of him. Addison lets out a relived breath as she quickly sheds the fireman’s jacket and oxygen tank. A door leading into the bedroom was open and they rush in to find John tied to the bed. “Dad?” Dean leans down and feels a warmth on his face. “He’s still breathing. Dad, wake up! Dad!”

Dean takes a out a knife and starts cutting the ropes, but Sam stops him. “Wait, wait,” Sam tells him.

“What?”

“He could be possessed for all we know.”

“What are you, nuts?”

“He has a point, Dean,” Addison says. “It’s better to be sure.”

Sam takes out a flask of holy water and splashes some on John. “Sam,” John tiredly asks. “Why are you splashing water on me?”

The trio exchanges a relived look. “Dad, you okay,” Dean asks, cutting the ropes.

John sits up. “They’ve been drugging me. Where’s the Colt?”

“Don’t worry, Dad,” Sam tells him. “It’s safe.”

“Good, boys. Good, boys.”

Dean and Sam help their father off the bed. Addison walks out of the bedroom ahead of them. Two men with black eyes burst into the apartment. “Time for another plan,” Addison says, backing up. They run back into the bedroom and slam the door shut. Addison grabs the salt container and pours half a ring in front of the door. An axes comes through the door, inches above her head.

“Addison,” Dean shouts. She looks over at him and finds the Winchesters standing by the opened window. Dean climbs out of the window, then helps John. Addison runs over and climbs out after Sam, pausing to pour a salt line on the windowsill. They make their way down the fire escape and down the alley. Suddenly, Sam’s tackled to the ground. Dean passes John to Addison and runs over to help his brother.

Dean delivers a kick to the demon’s stomach before being thrown into a car windshield. Addison powerlessly watches as the demon goes back to pummeling Sam. A gunshot rings and she looks to see Dean holding the Colt. The demon falls to the ground as Dean runs over to Sam. He helps his younger brother up and the three of them help John to where the Impala was parked.

* * *

Sam winces as Addison lightly presses down on the bruise on his face. Part of the right side of his face was swollen. They had driven until they found an abandoned house off an empty highway. They had salted the windows and doors while Dean helped John to the bedroom. “How is he,” Sam asks as Dean walks out of the bedroom.

“He just needed a little rest, that’s all,” Dean replies. “How are you?”

Sam glances at Addison. “You’ll be fine. Bruised for a few days, but fine,” she says, then steps back.

“Hey, you don’t think we were followed here, do you,” Sam asks.

“I don’t know,” Dean honestly answers. “I don’t think so. We couldn’t have found a more out-of-the-way to hole up.”

“Yeah.” Sam looks down at the dust covered wood floor for a moment. “Hey, uh, Dean, you, um, you saved my life back there.”

“So, I guess you’re glad I brought the gun, huh?”

“Man, I’m trying to thank you here.”

“You’re welcome,” Dean says after a moment. Sam stands up from where he was sitting on an old couch and joins Addison, who was going through the small bag they had brought in. “Hey, Sam?” Sam turns to his older brother. “You know that guy I shot? There was a person in there.”

“You didn’t have a choice, Dean.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s not what bothers me.”

“Then what’s bothering you,” Addison asks.

“Killing that guy, killing Meg — I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t even flinch. For you guys or Dad, the things I’m willing to do or kill, it just — it scares me sometimes.”

Addison looks down at the counter. Dean saying that brought that guilt she had been feeling over the death of the girl that Meg had been possessing. “It shouldn’t.” Addison looks up to find John walking into the room. “You did good.”

Dean looks at his father in disbelief. “You’re not mad?”

John frowns. “For what?”

“Using a bullet.”

“Mad? I’m proud of you. You know, Sam and I, we can get pretty obsessed. But you — you watch out for this family. You always have.”

Dean blinks. “Thanks.”

The lights in the cabin start flickering. A strong gust of wind hits the windows and they walk over to them. Nothing was out there, nothing that Addison could see anyway. “It found us. It’s here,” John says.

“The demon,” Addison disbelievingly asks.

“Sam, Addison, lines of salt in front of every window, every door.”

“Already did it,” Sam replies.

“Well check it, okay,” John orders.

Addison shrugs and walks out of the room with Sam. After checking the salt line on the far side of the room, she joins Sam. “Well, it’s either the demon or a really bad storm approaching,” she softly says.

Sam reaches up and brushes back a strand of her hair that had fallen out of the ponytail. “When I saw that axe come through the door, I thought…Ads, I thought—”

Addison places a hand on his uninjured check. “Sam, I’m fine.” He nods and for a moment, she thinks that he’s gonna kiss her. Then he steps back and walks out of the room. She sighs and follows him. She frowns, seeing that Dean had the Colt pointed at John.

“Dean? What the hell is going on,” Sam asks, equally confused.

“Your brother’s lost his mind,” John replies.

“He’s not Dad,” Dean tells them.

“What,” Addison asks, looking between Dean and John.

“I think he’s possessed. I think he’s been possessed since we rescued him.”

“Don’t listen to him,” John says.

“Dean, how do you know,” Sam asks.

“He’s different,” Dean answers.

“You know, we don’t have time for this,” John counters. “Sam, you want to kill this demon, you’ve got to trust me.” Sam looks between his father and brother. He watches as Addison walks over to Dean. “Sam?”

“No,” Sam replies, shaking his head. “No.”

Sam joins Dean and Addison. Tears fill John’s eyes. “Fine. You’re so sure? Go ahead. Kill me.” John hangs his head. Dean’s arm wavers and he starts to lower the gun. Then John looks up. His eyes are a bright yellow. “I thought so.” Addison groans as she’s slammed against the wall. Dean drops the Colt as he’s slammed against another wall while Sam hits the wall across from them. The Demon walks over and picks up the Colt. “What a pain in the ass this thing’s been.”

“It’s you, isn’t it,” Sam angrily says. “We’ve been looking for you for a long time.”

The Demon smirks. “You found me.”

“The holy water,” Addison begins.

“You think something like that works on something like me, little girl?” The Demon walks over to Addison and forcibly grabs her jaw. He leans and she stubbornly stares at him. “I’m gonna have fun with you when this is all over.”

Sam tries pulling away from the wall, but can’t due to the invisible force holding him there. “I’m gonna kill you!”

“Oh, that’d be a neat trick. In fact, here.” The Demon puts the Colt on the old kitchen table. “Make the gun float to ya there, psychic boy.” The Demon laughs when the gun doesn’t move. Addison glares at him. “Well, this is fun. I could’ve killed you a hundred times today, but this — this is worth the wait. Your dad? He’s in here with me — trapped inside his own meat suit. He says ‘hi’ by the way. He’s gonna tear you apart. He’s gonna taste the iron in your blood.”

“Let him go,” Dean demands. “Or I swear to God—”

“What? What are you and God gonna do? You see, as far as I’m concerned, this is justice.” The Demon walks over to Dean. He puts a hand on the wall next to Dean’s head and leans in. “You know that little exorcism of yours? That was my daughter.”

“Who? Meg?”

“The one in the alley? That was my boy. You understand?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What? You’re the only one who can have a family? You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed your family?” Dean glares at the Demon, who smirks at him. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot. I did. Still, two wrongs don’t make a right.”

“You son of a bitch.”

“I wanna know why,” Sam says causing the Demon to turn to him. “Why’d you do it?”

“You mean, why’d I kill Mommy and pretty little Jess,” the Demon asks.

“Yeah.”

“You know, I never told you this, but Sam was gonna ask her to marry him. Been shopping for rings and everything.” The Demon walks over to Sam. “You wanna know why? Because they got in the way.”

“In the way of what?”

“My plans for you, Sammy — you…and all the children like you.”

“Listen, you mind just getting this over with, huh,” Dean coldly says. “Cause I really can’t stand the monologuing.”

The Demon walks back over to Dean. “Funny. But that’s all part of your M.O., isn’t it? Mask all that nasty pain. Mask the truth.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“You know, you fight and your fight for this family, but the truth is…they don’t need you. Not like you need them. Sam — he’s clearly John’s favorite. Even when they fight. It’s more concern than he’s ever shown you.”

“I bet you’re real proud of your kids, too, huh? Oh, wait, I forgot. I wasted them.” The Demon steps back and lowers his head. When he looks up, Dean suddenly begins bleeding from his chest.

“Dean,” Addison shouts as he groans in pain.

“Dad,” Dean shouts through the pain. “Dad, don’t you let it kill me!”

“Dean,” Sam yells, trying to pull away from the wall.

Dean coughs up blood. “Dad, please.”

“Dean,” Addison cries as his head falls to his chest.

“Stop. Stop,” a voice softy says. The weight holding Sam and Addison to the walls is gone. Sam rushes over the table and grabs the Colt. Addison darts over to Dean. Sam aims the Colt at the Demon.

“You kill me, you kill Daddy,” the Demon taunts.

“I know,” Sam replies and shoots his father in the leg. John’s body falls to the ground.

Addison catches Dean as he starts to collapse. Sam helps her lay Dean on the ground. “Dean,” Addison says, putting pressure on his chest. Tears steamed down her face. “C’mon, Dean. Wake up. You have to wake up.”

Dean blinks at them. “Where’s Dad?”

“He’s right here,” Sam answers. “He’s right here, Dean.”

“Go check on him. Go check on him.” Addison shrugs off her hoodie and puts it on his chest. Dean keeps his gaze on Sam. “Dad? Dad?”

John gasps and wakes up. “Sammy,” he screams. “It’s still alive. It’s inside me. I can feel it. You shoot me. You shoot me! You shoot me in the heart, son!” Sam reluctantly raises the Colt and cocks it. “Do it, now!”

“Sam, don’t you do it. Don’t you do it,” Dean tells him.

“You’ve got to hurry! I can’t hold onto it much longer! You shoot me, son! Shoot me! Son, I’m begging you! We can end this here and now! Sammy!”

“Sam, no.”

“You do this! Sammy! Sam…” John’s mouth opens and a cloud of black smoke shoots out. It floats above John for a second, then disappears down through the floor boards. They’re all silent for a moment. A sad look was on John’s face.

“Sam,” Addison snaps. Sam looks at her. “Help me get him in the car! Now!” He rushes over and they help Dean stand up. Dean groans with pain as they walk out of the cabin. They get him in the backseat of the Impala. “Sam, get my jacket!” Sam nods and runs back into the cabin.

In a matter of minutes, John’s in the front seat and they’re speeding down the highway, with Sam behind the wheel. Addison was kneeling over Dean, who was half-laying, half-sitting in the backseat. She was trying to stop the bleeding from Dean’s chest. “Just hold on, all right,” Sam says. “Hospital’s only ten minutes away.”

“I’m surprised at you, Sammy. Why didn’t you kill it? I thought we saw eye to eye on this — killing this demon comes first. Before me, before everything,” John tells him.

Sam glances in the rearview mirror at Dean and Addison. “No, sir. Not before everything. Look, we still have the Colt. We still have the one bullet left. We just have have to start over, all right. I mean, we already found the demon—”

An semi truck suddenly slams into the Impala. The Impala slides off the road and into a ditch. Dean’s passed out from blood loss, with Addison partially laying on top of him. John’s head is against the passenger side of the Impala, with blood streaming from a cut on his hand. Sam’s head is resting against the driver’s side. And in the truck of the semi, a man with jet black eyes sits in the driver’s seat.


End file.
